Author Archives: 40andover

Dinner Chez Obama

Posted on by
Reply

Does one need to be a huge important nation, like India, to get a dinner at the White House?

No-Where-istan is a tiny country (still in my head) but we would like to be recognized on the international stage.  We have a national anthem, a flag, a motto and stamp.  I bet Sealandia doesn’t have those.

Here are the pluses:  

  1. We wouldn’t require any fuss about the menu.  We could bring deli food.  We’ll order lean corned beef and pastrami but NO knishes, so it will be heart-healthy (healthy-ish). 
  2. We’ll use paper plates instead of the fancy china.  Net-net, I believe that it is greener to have paper plates than have people wasting all that water hand-washing that fine china.  (Also, less germs.) 
  3. Also, I have a great dance shuffle on my iPod, so we don’t need the orchestra.  Still, I would like for the musicians to have paying gigs.  So, I am a little torn.
  4. We can have a cultural exchange:  We can teach the Obamas to talk with food in their mouths.  They can teach us how to eat arugula salad without spilling (we love arugula, but not as much as rugelach).
  5. We don’t have a big entourage and we can take Metro-North there and back, so we don’t need to stay in the guest bedrooms at the White House (we are a small country and we can’t afford the donations required to do that).
  6. The ministers and family and friends have no idea about protocol, so we can throw out the rule book and have some fun. 
  7. Look at the cost savings, which is important given that the nation is at its credit card limit. 

Here is the minus:

We don’t have sovereign territory outside my head so this idea will have to stay on the agenda of the Ministry of Dreams and Aspirations for a little while longer.

Share

Arrogant

Posted on by
Reply

That is the buzz word that Republicans are using to describe the Democrats’ attempting to reform health care in this country. 

Arrogant is how the Republicans have behaved.  “No” is not a reform plan.  What is arrogant (and unconscionable) is that Republicans dare to use the word “arrogant” when referring to the Democrats. 

The Democrats are struggling to reform a broken system and keep costs down (or at least tax those who can best afford it).  The Republicans (save two senators and one representative) have done nothing.

Mitch McConnell, you should be ashamed.

Share

New York Stories – – Funny and Scary

Posted on by
Reply

Yesterday:

I hopped a cab on my way home from my dad’s house (he looks good).  Judging by his name, accent, etc., he is Pakistani.  He kept turning his head to talk and I kept saying, “what?”  (More likely, “whaaaattttt?”).  It turns out that I didn’t notice (when I got into the cab) there was a woman in the front passenger seat.  Very diminutive woman, in fact.  They seemed to be having a great time.  She answered a cell phone on speaker, so I could tell it was a middle-aged woman (same age as cab driver).  Was it his wife driving with him so they could spend “quality time” together?  Was it a girlfriend?  Hmmmmmm.

Postscript:  I have thought about this further in the context of my job.  Here’s a guy who brought his wife/girlfriend to work.  I, the client, was the interloper.  Imagine if I brought my partner to a deal closing and giggled throughout.  But, then again, the cabbie probably has overheard the craziest things as his passengers chatter on cell phones, so why should he think it improper.  All I can say is, eeww.  EEEEwwww. EEEEEEwwwwwww.

Today:

Diffusion of responsibility is alive and well, 40 years after the Kitty Genovese killing (for those of you born in the 70s and later, people looked on doing nothing as the victim was being killed, believing that others would call the police).

There was a fight on the subway platform this morning and most people kept going along their ways.  One man tried to break it up and, when he couldn’t, he called out to people to call the police.  I ran upstairs where I could get cell phone reception and made the call.

I had a 911 operator on the line, describing the scene of two men fighting on the platform — actually one guy fighting; the other avoiding the fight.  But there is no way to tell who instigated the altercation.

The 911 operator asked me to identify the races of the men.  “White and black,” I said, wondering in my head if I should have said, “African-American”.  But, then, should I have said, “Caucasian”?  All this going on while I am trying to report something.  Weird, where the mind goes.  And, really, did my political correctness score really matter?  No.

An MTA guard appeared and broke it up and one guy left and disappeared into a crowd.  I told the 911 operator that the incident was over and the matter seemed to be under control.

Other people seemed to think someone else would do something.  That was more frightening than the fight itself.

Postscript:  Tonight, I told my son that I had to call 911 because people couldn’t settle a dispute with “words” and I also told him that “words” can cause fights.  Not that he should be timid; just that he needs to understand the power of words, for example, to unite a country in hope, divide a country in despair or cause a fight in New York City on a subway platform.

Share

Democrats are imploding

Posted on by
Reply

The GOP can just buy popcorn, sit back and reeeeeelax.  The Democrats are snatching defeat out of the mouth of victory.

We have Democrats who won’t let the health bill out of committee for a debate.  Not a vote.  A debate.  Joe Lieberman, Mr. GOP in an IND’s clothes is also squelching debate.  And to think he was almost a DEMOCRATIC Vice President. 

WHAT IS WRONG WITH DEBATE??  Yes, if it goes to debate and most people vote on party lines, it will pass, so those opposed definitely want to kill it in committee where it takes a super-majority to open debate (a little ODD if you ask me) but that is the risk with democratically elected representatives.

Also, will the Democrats PUH-LEEEEEEZE stop spending TARP money.  Everyone wants to claim a couple billion here and there to fund projects. 

Before we spend more, let’s see if it is necessary.  In the meantime, reduce our daily interest costs by paying down the deficit.  Do you like paying half a billion a day to service our enormous debt?If my father thought that I ever carried a balance on my credit cards, he would wonder if he raised me right.  (For a year or so in law school, I did.) 

All this does is make it impossible for our President to succeed.  And, if he fails, America fails.  We cannot stand still and survive as a prosperous nation and a superpower. 

(As much as I disagreed with George Bush, I always hoped he was right because he was (at least once) the democratically elected President of the United States.)

Share

Fathers

Posted on by
Reply

My dad is 89 years old.  He is active and self-sufficient.  What a difference a day makes at that age.

Today he had persistent shortness of breath and tightness in his chest.  Apparently, this has been going on for some weeks, especially when he walks.   These are the same streets and hills he has walked his adult life.

The doctor thinks it is his heart.  He is fine now.  He sounds fine over the phone.  We’ll see.  Some tests in the coming days.

I am still under the weather with the flu, so I have to wait to see him until the weekend.

I know I have joked in my blog about my father’s low threshold for discomfort and how much I know about his intestinal fortitude or lack thereof.  This is different. 

Dad is not panicked or kvetching.  And, he plans to think carefully about what, if any, procedures he would undergo.

My father’s heart pumps so strong with love, generosity and kindness.  Yet, it may also be a weakening muscle. 

Just keep it beating, Dad.

Share

Enough Polling, Please

Posted on by
1

What I have learned by being sick at home watching news shows in between naps and flu-induced coma like behavior:

There is a “just released” poll for everything nowadays.  There are instant polls and twitter polls.  There are online polls and telephone polls.  While the actual number crunching may be scientific, there is nothing scientific about the responses. 

Let’s say my commute took twice as long as normal and my boss was angry that I was late to a meeting and all of a sudden because of the economy I am a little more nervous about job security than I might have been two years ago.  Now someone calls me tonight and asks, how am I feeling about the economy.  My answer may be “lousy”.  The day before I might have said, “stabilizing”.  The poll measures how you feel at that moment which isn’t right or wrong — it just isn’t the whole picture. 

Also the way the question is asked often leads to a more optimistic or pessimistic answer.  “Do you feel the country is on the wrong course?”  “Do you think that President Obama is indecisive on Afghanistan?” 

Or if you use a measure of 100 days or 1000 days or 5 minutes, it gives immediate legitimacy to the notion that these are relevant time measures for progress on incredibly complicated and pervasive issues.  Go figure. 

Maybe a better poll would ask, “over the past 6 months, has your outlook changed on [insert crisis du jour]?  And how has your outlook changed?”  And even that can be corrupted if you use a benchmark date.  “Since Labor Day, how have you been feeling about [insert crisis du jour]?”  Chances are that that question will elicit a negative response because end of summer is bittersweet.  Ask people on Thanksgiving Day and the answers may be more philosophical.    

I am of course exaggerating, and I must confess that I am unencumbered by fact, information and background in poll taking.  But I can’t imagine that these things don’t have an effect.

The biggest danger is that instant polling, first 100-day polling and second 100-day polling cement these arbitrary time frames and in a time where instant gratification and diminishing attention spans are prevailing social disorders, this is frightening indeed.

Share

Just the G-d-Awful Flu

Posted on by
2

Since Friday, I have been felled by the flu.  I don’t have mad sow flu, or H1N1, as it is supposedly called.

I am now recovering from the usual, seasonal, G-d-awful flu.  It happens.  The non-designer, non-pandemic one.  I even had a flu shot which I have to say probably made it less horrendous than it could have been.

My sister the doctor was concerned that I was dying of the plague because I didn’t blog for days.  Yes, I had to have been pretty hard hit not to blog, or, for that matter, to pay a shiva call to my friend whose mother’s funeral I attended last week (see prior blog entry).

The flu, once medicated, is the moral equivalent of a stubbed toe.  Yet, I longed to hear my mother say, “my poor tsakele, if I could have it for you I would,” as she looked into my eyes and caressed my cheek in that way that mothers do that make you feel better just by having them there.

POB, partner of blogger, has been in the trenches with our son, getting him from place to place, while I lied in bed doing the least I could do.  Really, the least I could do.  And she is a trooper (who is now coughing, because I share too much).

I took a walk yesterday because I was becoming self-radicalized watching CNN and MSNBC in between naps over the last few days.  I was woozy and thought it would be a great idea to go to the gym.  (I need a personal attendant.)  I went to the gym and did nothing except watch the people who are able to go to the gym on a Monday at 3:30pm, while I scrubbed with Purell.  Luckily the medication dried me out so much that I neither blew my nose or coughed much.  One general observation:  the beautiful, the buff and the young don’t go to the gym in the afternoon.  The older, schleppier and grayer do.

I left the gym having not sweat or done anything to shore up my sagging self and walked south for no reason (ok, no sane reason).  I went into PC Richards and Sons and looked at Plasma TVs.  I thought maybe if I bought a big plasma TV, I could tell POB that it was the delirium that did it.  Even in my delirium I knew that was stupid, yet wishful, thinking.

Friends tried to make me feel better by emailing me stories of the weird and blog-worthy.   My old friend started out his email by writing: “My dear son didn’t really do anything wrong (that’s what every parent says).”  Followed by, wait for it . . .

“Gotcha!!!”

Walk-weary, I took to my bed and resumed doing the least I could do.

Dr. SOB (Sister of Blogger), are you satisfied that I am on the road to recovery?

Share

Imagine Peace — Part 2

Posted on by
Reply

I know my mother sounded a little saintly and we like a family of do-gooders in a prior entry, Imagine Peace, so we need to set the record straight.  We have our moments of community service but we are Seinfeldian in the usual ways.

First, the email from a friend of MOB [mother of blogger) and a co-founder of New Yorkers Against Gun Violence from FOBM (friend of blogger’s mom) to SOB (sister of blogger).

“Dear SOB:

Thank you for coming on Tuesday and for helping to make the event a great success.  I still miss MOB and would love to have her see how the organization has progressed from its fledgling days when she did so much to nurture it.

Also, would you send me blogger’s email address – she was quite a bidder at the Silent Auction and won a Fire Island week as well as French lessons.  Many thanks again for your continued support.

Fondly, FOBM”

Very lovely note, indeed.  So glad that Mom is remembered. SOB follows up with this email to me:

“Blogger:

I am forwarding an email from FOBM. That’s great that you won that Fire Island week.  (Have you heard there is a recession going on?  What else did you bid on?  What if you won everything you bid on?  Are you CRAZY?)
Actually, I was looking at that myself and considering bidding but then got distracted and didn’t return. When are we going?!! I hope it’s not a dump. You don’t have to invite us.

I feel very good that our family supports this organization – a way to honor Mom and her vision.

Kumbaya, babe.

Love, SOB“


It is important to be honest that we are riding our mother’s coattails.

Yep, Kumbaya, SOB, Kumbaya.
Share

Lip Creep

Posted on by
Reply

For the last few days I have been wearing lipstick because I finally accept my mother’s opinion that a little lipstick hides that washed-out look that comes with age.  And, lipstick is a good lip moisturizer.

Still, I have noticed that not only does the lipstick make my lips look bigger, it is actually making them bigger. 

Lip creep is the culprit.  Tiny wrinkles around the lips allow the lipstick to run into the crevices that the wrinkles create which, as I grow older, will become ravines. 

Now when I see an old woman with lipstick down to her chin, I will be more kind.  Or as kind as I can be.

For now, back to Chapstick for me.  Sorry, Mom.

Share

The Blogger in my midst

Posted on by
Reply

So, after the funeral, I decide to work from home since most banks are closed (and my clients are banks).  I return the rental car and make the mistake of hearkening back — with no one else in room — to the earlier conversation about menopause that I had with the same rental car sales assistant.   She was not pleased.  She had mentioned earlier that she has mood swings.  I notice as I stand over the counter that she still hadn’t taken her vitamins.  I decided not to mention that the name of the GPS NeverLost is a misnomer.  And, I assume I am going to get a schmuck tax on top of the usual rental car costs.  I am fine with all of it because, well, it is what it is.

I go to grab lunch and there is a woman sitting opposite me at the communal table in Le Pain Quotidienne.  She looks at me as if she recognizes me.  We hold a gaze for an extra second. I know that I don’t know her so I assume that she asked me a question and is waiting for a response.  So, I say, “excuse me?” as if she said something.  She didn’t.  I apologize.  I go back to my various devices of connectivity.

She types furiously on her laptop.  I think she is a blogger.  I wanted to say, “Hi, I’m 40andoverblog.  Who are you?” But that would have sounded like the ookiest come-on line and that was not my intention.

I surreptitiously glance over at her from time to time, trying to see what she is typing.  She catches me a few times.  I have to leave now lest she think I have any interest other than uncovering a blogger and responds with interest or revulsion, neither of which I could handle.

I inhale my food and pay my bill.

I imagine that she is thinking, “wow, she reminds me of my mother”.  I catch a cab and take to my bed.

Share