Waiting to Get There. Usually on the A/C/E in Chelsea, New York City.

 So we had 14 for Thanksgiving dinner. We started doing the holidays at our place after that one year, early on, when we found ourselves in the car at 1am on Christmas Eve.This transpired because Tom's parents are divorced and apparently whoever Tom spends more time with on Christmas Eve is the one he loves the most. So yeah. And this was after a bunch of Thanksgiving drama. So as we were driving through the wintery darkness so many moons ago, I said to Tom, It's your fault they got divorced, why am I suffering? (I didn't actually say that line, it's part of a Nate Bargatze comedy special , but I expressed a similar point. It just took me probably about an hour.) Anyway, ever since then, we hunker down at home and tell anyone who wants to see us they need to come by us. That's it. And you know, I think it's lovely. I hope everyone else does too. 20 years later, I'm thankful for them making the trek. Happy Thanksgiving!

 Not just a baby goat, this goat was 4 hours old. Literally this goat had been in utero until like just after lunch.  Mom and the goat. We were vacationing in Ocean City Maryland when this photo was taken. These people renting an airBnB down the block from us said they had to take the goat with them on vacation due to it being born while they were packing up the car to leave.  I don't fully understand this. We failed to ask sufficient questions. For example, no one asked where the Mom Goat was and why she was deemed incompetent.  Hopefully mom goat was home in the barn getting some much needed R&R, and this was not a scenario where the people down the block had just made off with a goat infant, 911 style. I bet AirBnB rules don't specifically forbid goats, so at least as far as AirBnB is concerned I'm sure these people down the block are in the clear. 

 So yeah, let's start here:  With some frequency, my mother would ask, did you see my email?  And I would say, nope, I did not.  And my mother would look down her nose and roll her eyes. Oh you young people with all your texting who don't know how the email works. She was so impatient.  For my part, idk, being not actually a young person but a Gen X'er extremely familiar with how the email works, I have managed to collect probably five email addresses over the years. So I just assumed the missing email went to one of my defunct yahoo accounts or something. Besides, Tom always was cc:ed so if it was anything important, he had the deets. If you're quick like this, you might be able to see where this is heading, but let me give you a couple other clues.  My father sent out in quick succession, the following two emails: This email came through without any explanation from my father. Just a big photo. That's my parents heads btw. Pop's into the photographic arts...

  It is pretty to hike in autumn! Me, Mom and Dad went out for a short hike yesterday. In a very small world moment, coming the other direction down the trail, was somebody I knew and her boyfriend and their dog. So crazy when shit like that happens. Introductions all around: Mom and Dad, this is Kathy, this is Karl, and Karl says, And this is my dog....  I drop off at that moment because I'm exclaiming to Kathy wow, what a crazy coincidence and she's explaining maybe not so much, Karl actually lives nearby. My attention swivels back to the conversation Dad is having with Karl when Dad says, "Help must be a troublesome name for your dog... like if you're calling for her yelling Help! Help! -- How often do rescue workers arrive?" Karl interrupts, "Her name is HOPE, not HELP" Mom looks over at me like, ya see? I told you his hearing was going.

 Was going through an old box and found this relic: Found in a very old box because I am old This is a mask from the Halloween I dressed up as a 🧞‍♀️ genie. I was maybe in third grade. My mom made the entire costume by hand… including this mask. She glued on pearls and gold trim because no self-respecting genie just wears a plain electric pink mask. It was the best genie costume ever. I felt magical.  My mom is the best. ❤️

So apparently yesterday, mom, pop and one of the neighbors were standing out front the garages in their retirement community. They see Margaret, who lives upstairs, driving over yonder in her Mercedes. She's on the other side of a traffic island, headed their way.  She goes up a curb, through some grass, mows down a small tree, comes down off the curb and rolls to a stop nearby. My parents and the other neighbor stand there with their eyeballs popping out of their heads and their mouths hanging open. Mom says Margaret told them she was just taking a shortcut. I say maybe Margaret shouldn't be driving anymore. Pop says Margaret keeps running into the wall of her garage. Her car is all banged up and she gets flat tires all the time. Tom says maybe Margaret shouldn't be driving any more.

 In hindsight, it may have been an overly aggressive agenda. At the crack of 10:30 AM, we headed out to see the new Banksy exhibit. This pop-up is conveniently located (for us) on West 14th in the former Urban Outfitters that closed up last year sometime. I didn't even realize it closed until we were inside and the place was obviously no longer a retail establishment. Pop decided he's a fan of Banksy. Mom said she always liked his work. She is curious which art school he went to, because it's clear he went. It is easy to see his technical skills are excellent. Thug for Life print at the Banksy Exhibit Who can get enough of these rats? After Banksy, we had a quick lunch at the bowl place and then headed up to the Met to see the Lexicon of Fashion exhibit. This required walking across the park because who wants to switch at 53rd? So much easier to just take the C to 81st and walk over there. I already saw the Lexicon of Fashion once before, in member previews with Renya. I wo...

Take a look at this find: "Always be polite."  Written 100 times in 1952 by my mom. It was discovered at the bottom of a box at my grandmother's house.  Not everyone would have kept the evidence her eldest's incivility for 70 years. But my grandma was always an iconoclast when it came to collectables. She lined multiple shelves with empty Aunt Jemima syrup bottles. She piled up every National Geographic printed since the end of the second world war. Maybe she liked the symmetry of multiples (?). In any event, while the caliber of her archives is unrivaled, I have one small grievance with this latest unearthed family heirloom. "Always be polite?"  Seriously? I want to know what my mother was doing, exactly, that warranted such a grueling just dessert. For example: I will not spank others. I will not aim for the head. I will not conduct my own fire drills. I will not prescribe medication. I will not eat things for money. No one is interested in my underpants. ...

 As a sequel to... Movies I - Mom, Dad and Tom discuss Steve McQueen on the porch Movies II - Dad's Top 3 Favorite War Movies  ; and Movies III - Favorite Fights! . ..may I present  Family Favorite Escape Movies *As discussed during Family Zoom Nite* Great Escape Shawshank Redemption Escape from Alcatraz Stalag 17 The movie where Sylvester Stallone is a soccer player. Mom notes for the record: "This was the worst movie I ever saw." The movie where Woody Allen is in a chain gang. They escape and tell people they are a giant charm bracelet. The movie where Paul Newman escapes with 50 eggs.  The movie where Paul Newman escapes with 50 eggs.  "No, wait, he eats 50 eggs." "It had a weird title." "Technically, if he ate the 50 eggs, he did escape with them." "It was Cool Hand Luke." "Whether he escaped or not with the 50 eggs would really depend on the timing." "Oh right, Cool Hand Luke."

 It's kind of a sure thing. If you say any of the following words around my mother: - Nordic countries - Rain, sleet, snow, hail - the wearing of waterproof gear - islands in the northern hemisphere - Alice Deal from up the street's oldest son Alex's blue-eyed, blond haired very tall wife  - A pale wintery sun - rucksacks, kneesocks, compasses and survival rations ... If any topic comes up that, even in the most 5-degrees-of-Kevin-Bacon way, has anything to do with anything above, my mother will yank out her iPhone and tell you the current weather in Reykjavik. It's like a super power. She can do it so fast these days you barely have five or six seconds to prepare for what you know is coming. After the breaking news weather report, Mom will confirm that it is always, every day of the year, 35 degrees and raining in Reyjavik.  When she was there for a couple weeks last summer, it was 35 degrees and raining the entire time. Clearly this was traumatic. And so it seems she ...

Photocredit. We're back from vacation. The property our whole family rented by Lake George featured a small patio positioned on top of a hill a ways from the house. The thing with 13-year-olds is that their piercing shrieks carry over surprisingly long distances. Luckily I have tinnitus and enjoy me a nice deck chair. Mom and Dad (otherwise known as M & D) parked their little Prius in the driveway by the front door of the house. Turns out, it was also parked right underneath a sprawling pine tree. While packing up the cars to leave, D bustles about looking busy and irritated. He flicks the windshield. I ask him what he's doing. "There's pine sap all over the car. And bird shit. And the pine needles are sticking to it." "Was this intentional?" I ask. D makes one of his Dad Faces where he tightens up his mouth and presses down his eyebrows. "Maybe you will come to appreciate driving around camouflaged as a bush," I say. "A coniferous bu...

Mom: "This baseball might be worth something. It's autographed." Upon closer examination.... Mom: "Oh.  Your father signed it."

The house we rented for the week was right on a lake. This was the view sitting on the deck drinking coffee in the morning. My father has a new hobby - picking locks. While the rest of us all lounged around on the deck, pop spread out his lock picking tools on the kitchen table. He went down in the garage and rummaged up an assortment of Masterlocks. He picked them. On Wednesday we opened up birthday presents. Pretty much everybody except me and Mary had birthday presents. Tom received a gift from my dad - a lock picking kit of his very own. Tom is a quick study. He opened up the practice lock that came with the kit in record time and then moved on to the Masterlocks from the garage.  Now he's graduated to door locks. I have mixed feelings about this. Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Ella and Jack played a little game they called "William Tell." With an avocado and a rubber-band shooter. My brother decided that eye protection was a must-have so so...

For several excellent reasons I won’t get into, we watched the Kentucky Derby at a dive bar in Flushing Queens-- dead center, ChinaTown. On the TV, we took in rich whitebread billionaires swanning about in silken spring-themed blazers, white pants and expensive looking hair.  Meanwhile, my immediate vicinity smelled like day old Coors and someone smoking Newports upstairs. Patrons slumped in their barstools, maybe for weeks.  It’s possible that the pock-faced man suffered from an overactive bladder, but curiously, every time he went to the rest room, he chose to go with a new buddy, someone who wandered in off the street. It reminded me of my childhood. There was a lot of economic activity inside the men’s room at the Washington Tavern in my hometown. The restroom in there was like a tiny farmers market. Except in the stalls there were no apples or summer squashes and small bills were preferred.  Remaining on the topic of my hometown… I was kinda thinking t...

I want a Dual Flush Toilet. Eight-tenths of a gallon flush for liquids and 1.6 gallon flush for solids. All over Australia and New Zealand, I saw the Dual Flush Toilet. All over Europe: Dual Flush Toilets. They come standard. The one I picked out is this Aussie Dual Flush. Excellent reviews. On the west coast, you get a rebate if you buy a low flow toilet. $150 back. Not like in PA. I went to the plumbing supply in town and the guy told me the Dual Flush Toilet does not even exist. What is it, a figment of my imagination? I told him I saw plenty of Dual Flushes with my own two eyes and he gave me this annoyed look and refused to help me anymore. He's on my shit list. All the plumbing suppliers around here are on my shit list. Including Lowe's. I went there too. This is ridiculous. This is crazy. We all have water problems. The Dual Flush Toilet has excellent engineering, not like the old low flow toilets. All they did before is just make the tanks smaller. Idiots. Of course tha...

Dick Cheney: Besides appearing mild to moderately dead, what a disgusting schizophrenic crook. Legislative? Executive? Have a fifth-grader give you a quick constitutional run-through, Dick. The Kid who Lives Next Door: Why does he need to rev his engine all the time? Maybe he has OCD. I don't care. It is excruciating. Lindsay Lohan: I'm not a fan of anyone who is a drain on society. That Dentist, Dr. Abelness: Fundamentalist charlatan. Crosses and Jesus all over the place and then his flunky tells me it's a state law you have to get bitewing Xrays every year. technorati tags: Dick Cheney , Lindsay Lohan , Rant

The Energy Committee: Liquify coal? This is not perplexing, people. This is economic and environmental disaster. I ask you. Which brainless wonder got lobbied into such a crappy pancake of a brainstorm? It’s like a trip to idiot island. Every one of them, remarkably free from the ravages of intelligence. Zaynesville Pottery: $55 for a mixing bowl? I could not justify it. I bought a birdbath instead. technorati tags: The Energy Committee , Shit List ,

My mother has had a Shit List for as long as I can remember. She worries over it. Polishes it to au courant . Keeps it lock-tight and ready in the holster. As of 5/10/07 : 5pm : My Mother's Shit List Paris Hilton. (What an idiot. She should go to jail. Could've killed someone. Driving drunk for Pete's sake.) Karl Rove. (That Machiavellian puppeteer. He's got his hand up George Bush's ass.) Tom Cruise. (Leprechaun. Know-it-all Leprechaun.) The President of Giant Foodstores. (Not carrying Kashi cereal is the last straw.) Noel Ballentine 'Scheister Doctor.' (And most doctors, for that matter. All the same. White-Coat-God Complex. Doctors.) Happy Mother's Day, Ma!!!!!