Like do I really need to extol the virtues of Bruce? I mean, you probably already know about his bangin’ 66 year old bod, his ability to translate the alphabet into songs you can’t stop singing and dancing to, his goodness, devotion to his family, and downright humbleness. And now, here he is dancing with his 90-year-old mom. Sweet Jesus, I love this man. #bruceforpresident.
My sister Joni is older than I am. She doesn’t look older, but let’s just not rub it in, OK? Anyway, we used to watch the Patty Duke Show together, and here’s how it went:
Me: Want some toast? (Toast was like, a big snack in our house. I don’t know how this got started, but it could be why I would basically give up one of my kids for a good piece of bread.)
Joni: Nah. I’m not hungry.
Me: Are you sure?
Joni: Nope. I don’t want any.
I would try and scramble during a commercial to get the Pepperidge Farm all toasty and buttery before Patty and her identical cousin Cathy would come back, but usually I missed some of the show, which Joni did not. When I’d come back with my toasty, buttery Pepperidge Farm, Joni would look over at it, then at me, then at it again. And here’s how it went (EVERY SINGLE TIME, EVEN THOSE TIMES WHEN I SAID,”I KNOW YOU’RE GOING TO EAT MY TOAST, WHY DON’T I JUST MAKE YOU A PIECE?”)
Joni (looking at me sheepishly): Can I have a bite?
Me (with a “what?” expression on my face.): I thought you didn’t want any.
Joni: I didn’t……..But it looks so good.
Me (EXASPERATED): Here.
Joni would proceed to eat the whole piece of toast, and I would proceed to go back to the kitchen and make more toast. This is how it goes when you love your older sister and would even give up your toast and favorite show because she’s paying attention to you. (Don’t even get me started on the inequity of the back rub situation. Talk about bait and switch, about taking advantage of your little sister’s total devotion to you. She owes me about 10 million of those…..)
Anyway, I thought of this today when I read the perpetually perky Patty Duke died. She was only 69. I would give anything for another day in the den at 88 Milwaukee Ave. making toast for my sister. Those were the days. Bye Patty. I bet Cathy is really sad about this.
It’s April 1 on Friday, and aside from having to watch out for wacky pranks, it will be the beginning of the sprint. The sprint being the end of the school year, the end of all Brookline school years (we still have plenty of college left, and plenty of PAYING FOR college left). During this sprint, which I am already prepping for, emotions are high, low, and partying like frat boys on spring break. I find myself getting that terror feeling in the middle of my chest, the one that says, “HOLY SHIT, YOUR NEST IS ABOUT TO HAVE A LOT MORE SPACE.
I don’t always do well with transitions. I need a lot of time to prepare for them. There’s something about the inability to force time to stand still that’s really scary. I remember when I turned 4o, Peter and I were going to NYC to stay at the Soho Grand, go to two Broadway shows, and meet one of my great friends for dinner, and we got fogged in at Logan, and after six hours, of our two days away from our kids, we gave up, hightailed it to Pomodoro in the North End, got ourselves a Lobster Claw (a contender for what I want in my mouth upon dying), and booked a fancy room at the Charles Hotel. We watched two movies, and made the best of our time away. When Peter fell asleep, I remember going into the bathroom, looking at my face in the mirror and being paralyzed by the fact that no matter what I did in that moment, I was going to be 40 whether I liked it or not. And the next day I was. And I lived, and it was no big deal, really, and fuck if I wouldn’t like to be 40 again right now!
Anyway, I am so grateful for all these years of school in a community that really cared about my children. On Friday, there is a party for the parents we went to elementary school with. We’ll celebrate getting our kids through what sometimes felt like 10 billion years, and sometimes felt like four days, of school, together. It will be a good touchstone, a full circle moment. I will laugh with people I’ve known for decades. And more than likely, I will cry some, too. And I will be one step closer to going back to what it was like 21 years ago, before I had kids. Stay tuned. This ought to be interesting. And now, let’s sprint.
It’s Easter, the day that Jesus rose from the grave. (If he came back today, and saw the GOP. dare I say he’d wish he hadn’t.)
I am continually bowled over by the Pope. This man lives and breathes what it is to be a true Christian, a good person. Look at this video. Donald Trump, Ted Cruz, I’m talking to you.
If only he could run for president.
Happy spring, Easter, and chocolate eggs.
As if it’s not hard enough to let your little girls go off to college (cue the violin music) because you’ll miss them, watch the movie The Hunting Ground, and you’ll want to lock them in their rooms and throw away the key.
This Academy Award nominated CNN documentary about sexual assault on college campuses throughout the country is powerful stuff. If you’re a parent, it’s like watching all 10 of the Halloween movies in a row. I watched it with my daughter, and we were angered, and shocked not only by the schools that have this issue, but HOW they handle the issue, which is to say, they put their heads in the sand like a fucking ostrich.
One after another, you’re introduced to exemplary female students whose lives are shaken and stirred by sexual assault. Adding insult to injury, the likes of Harvard, UNC, Notre Dame, and Florida State turn their backs on these girls, for fear their reputations will be damaged. Because, you know, these girls probably brought it on themselves.
This is a really eye-opening film. Everyone should see it. Especially those people dishing out the astronomical tuition to send their children to a trusted institution. This is not what you want your kids to learn in school.
I’m just going to be honest with you. Yesterday’s attack didn’t impact me as much as the one in Paris. I seem to have a bit of a shield up. I might be getting de-sensitized.
Don’t get me wrong, I am utterly horrified by the loss of life. I am sick to my stomach that ISIS has such a wide web of terror, but at the same time, I wasn’t glued to CNN and MSNBC last night, while monitoring the New York Times on my computer. I wasn’t in my usual news coma. It may be that my system just can’t take in such hatred, when I believe there is so much good in the world.
And there is, there is so many good people out there. Let’s just remember that, as the images of an airport filled with bloody faces, and a subway of twisted metal bombard our brains. There is good.
Yesterday was a lesson in “try, try, and just keep trying.” There are bulbs blooming, crocus crying a happy tune, trees getting ready to roll out their buds, when out of the sky, on the second day of spring, comes snow.
But what do I see while driving, but a group of daffodils, waving their yellow heads standing straight up like little soldiers, telling that snow they will NOT BE DENIED.
And that’s the deal, no matter what, you just have to keep growing, even in the snow, even when the conditions are not ideal, you just have to lift your face to the sun and fucking shine.
It’s not like anybody’s paying me for endorsements, so don’t think I’m all up in someone’s face to suck up or anything, it’s just that when I find something I love, it makes me want to share it with everybody I know. You’re welcome.
Enter Tatte. From the beautiful logo, which always makes me stop and DROOL, on my way to bringing my daughter to physical therapy, to the brand new enlarged interior that I want to move my bed into, this bakery/restuarant is perfection, plain and simple.
There’s a large outdoor patio, too. The food is sublime. You must go. IMMEDIATELY. If not sooner.