Off-Broadway: "Joy" Tells a Mop-Top Mom's Story of Success

 

Betsy Wolfe ("& Juliet" and "Waitress") 

plays Long Island inventor Joy Mangano. 

By Alice Garbarini Hurley

At "Joy," you feel hope and laugh loud at the mettle of Joy Mangano, the Long Island inventor of the Miracle Mop in the 1990s. Facing the camera on QVC, she sold 18,000 mops in under 30 minutes. She elevated the unsexy tool to something more fun, if domesticity can be fun. It had a a big cotton string head that stayed fresh and pretty (remove and spin it in the washer) and a handle mechanism for easy wringing and to save back strain. 

Her story inspired the 2015 movie "Joy," starring Jennifer Lawrence. Ms. Mangano had lost her job as an airline travel agent, and her parents lived with her. The bills were piling up. The real Joy, played with sparkle here by Betsy Wolfe ("Waitress," "& Juliet"), was a divorced mom of three but off-Broadway, she has one child, a teen daughter, who can't afford things teens need and want, like money for a school trip to Disney. 

Wolfe wins as a striking blonde in mom jeans, determined to make that mop. She won't take no for an answer, especially not from the men in the QVC boardroom. She begs and borrows money from her father's glam young girlfriend, trusts her dad to manage the books (oops) and gets swindled for a patent by a cowboy who doesn't show his hand (Paul Whitty in a star turn). 

When Wolfe steps off the stage to present mops to some audience members, you can tell everyone wants one. It's a rough world outside the theater, and laughter and lightness is a buffer. A staffer quickly whisks the mops away for safekeeping until after the show. 

This feel-good production features a fine-tuned ensemble that makes quick changes and a roster of songs and dances about believing in yourself and following your dreams. Ms. Mangano went on to mop up annual sales of more than $150 million on Home Shopping Network. She developed other clever, even cute, products including slim, velvety, no-slip Huggable Hangers that caught Oprah Winfrey's eye. The people leaving the theater had pep in their steps (and maybe JOY friendship bracelets in their pockets, since they're sold out now in the official online merchandise shop). But you can still get the gray flowy tee, with a scoop neck and lettering that says SPARK CREATE INVENT SPREAD JOY. There's magic in those words.

Jennifer Lawrence starred in the movie version (2015).

The suits at QVC are captivating and funny. Charl Brown, front and center, is crush-worthy.

Joy: A True New Musical

Through Sunday, August 17 at the Laura Pels Theater, Manhattan; joythemusical.com. Running time: 2 hours.

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Joy Mangano, cover girl, 

February 2016 issue of Good Housekeeping Magazine.

Drinking in Maine Peace

Dan, Figgy and I are up in Maine. Punch didn't want to join us, and things didn't exactly go well when we forced her to come last summer. We can't leave our teen at home alone, so Florida Orange (our goddaughter) and her husband have Punch visiting down in Florida. Very nice. They have a sweet new baby girl and Punch loves tropical climates and babies, so it's a good fit. She flew down from Newark Airport and is away the same week we are. We are house- and cat-sitting for dear family here, so that's lucky, and nice, too.

Some notes of peace and joy:

• Beautiful breeze in the trees.
• Fun ride up with Figgy. But by the end, 10 p.m. ish, she said Mom, you talk constantly. Which I do. I'm driving back with Dan Tuesday. Fig has to leave Monday for work.
• Taking care of Pat and Martha's garden. It is so lovely and fertile, bursting with orange, yellow, rose-red, geranium-pink. I wish our gardens were like this. The Maine coast just seems perfect for bright, colorful blooms.
• Lovable fat cat.
• Boats in the harbor.
• Book in my hand.
• Vermont yogurt for breakfast.
• Good coffee from Downshift in Belfast (espresso blend).
• We plan a day to walk and sightsee at Acadia National Park.
• Dan went to the strawberry farm this morning but the red gems were all picked by 11 a.m. We hope to go back Monday or Tuesday, 8 a.m.
• My mother-in-law came to the BBQ. Her daughter rented a van and her sons helped her in, and drove her back. She is 95 and even though she is forgetting a lot, she is remembering some things, too. Like my name, Alice. She also liked looking at the pond and the trees and feeling the breeze.
• Hotdogs and burgers on the grill, cooked by Mike. Grey Poupon mustard.
• Quiet time to process my brother's death. It was June 11, so quick and so recent. I have many thoughts about this, especially that John was estranged from us for decades and at the end of his life, we were involved in the most intimate details, even in cleaning out his apartment in the East Village. He told me last year that he had started to bake desserts weekly and was enjoying it. Going through his cabinets--vanilla extract, cake mix, boxes of brown sugar, cans of frosting. It all felt intimate, all of it. Not just his clothing and photos and letters but also his groceries, the chicken in the freezer, the can of San Marzano tomatoes I brought him January 1. The balsamic vinegar, the boxes of pasta.
• The walking bridge here in Belfast, so lovely. Taking strides by people on the side who hold fishing poles over the bay.

I'm trying to stay in the moment. We have been in touch with Florida Orange and Punch.....they seem good, too. Plus F.O. and husband have a big dog! Punch loves dogs. Good night.

My Eldest Brother Has Left the Building

My brother John. Photo from @internationalbarnyc.

Please check this charming story from The International Bar in the East Village, via the owner, my brother John’s younger friend Tyler. ("I love that guy," Tyler said when he heard John was in the ICU earlier this month.)

STORY FROM EV GRIEVE: https://evgrieve.com/2025/06/rip-john-garbarini.html?m=1. That post links to the obituary I was honored to write about my brother. He would have turned 73 today.

Another of his close friends, stylish artist Bobby Dean of Sophie’s Bar in the EV, held the first memorial service referenced in the obituary. Dan, Figgy, Punch, Sis, Celia, Nancy, Nicole and I all attended that one, along with many admirers. We brought subs (prosciutto, mozzarella, eggplant etc.) and Torrone nougat candy from old-school Russo’s and mini pastries from venerable Veniero’s, 2 doors away. (Our Italian grandma, Rosie, often brought us Torrone when she visited Dumont.) A table in the corner held a framed photo of John; a martini with olives (his favorite drink, Bobby Dean said); a copy of The New York Times crossword puzzle; and a pitcher of blue and pink hydrangea blooms I clipped from our Montclair shrub. We toasted our brother and friend.

I’m out of town on a planned trip now so will miss tomorrow's farewell at The International. Sis and friends Edie, Walter and Margaret, I think, will represent.

I regret to say that our family's relationship with my brother was strained and estranged for many years after our mother's death in 1981. He was smart, talented, well-read, funny--and an enigma, a man of mystery. I blogged about it here. But Sis and I were back in touch as of 2023 at least, so that is good. 

With Dan, we met John for lunch at a Mexican restaurant one spring day. On Good Friday 2024, I had lunch with my friend Celia in the city and she told me my brother's apartment was right around the corner. We found the hidden apartment building, behind a building with a locked gate and a special code, and said hi face-to-face. And on New Year's Day 2025, Dan and I drove in, met Celia, entered the code and dropped off some homemade Marcella Hazan Tomato Sauce; a black & white photo of blonde toddler John with our young mother, near the waves on Cape Cod; a small bowl from my parents' wedding china for remembrance. John came to the door, sat on the seat of his walker, talked with us.

Dad told me once: "Mommy and I used to swing John Joseph in the waves and he laughed so much."

May there be laughter, peace and healing after we leave this land for the heavens. And a feeling of unconditional love, acceptance and respect.

The John Garbarini coasters Tyler made, so cool.

Hellish Hair Day in Hospital

I know it’s superficial to focus on this in a medical crisis, but I just caught a glimpse in the mirror in el baño, as the room is labeled. Omigosh, I need a shampoo and makeup. My Prada lipstick 💄 in Room 57 North should help. 

I’m here for my brother John, who is seriously ill with heart failure, a raging infection after hernia surgery complications, downturn in liver and kidney functions. I got here to Bellevue Hospital on First Avenue and 26th Street in New York City by 5 a.m today. I left last night by 9 p.m., when night fell over the nearby East River and FDR Drive. 

Sis will be here by noon (train from Connecticut). It’s an honor to hold a place by my brother’s bed. And when angels come, I would like to be present.

Blessings Today: Spiritual and Store-Bought

A quick list.

1. My new Peanuts notebook from the Moleskine store in Moynihan Train Hall, up the escalator on the second floor. I love it. I made a list this morning of tasks for Life and for Work and found it helpful. I was productive. Dan usually doesn't read my blog, so I will say that I got him one, too (he loves Peanuts!!!!) for Father's Day. His set (shown above) includes 4 iconic Blackwing for Moleskine pencils. The following legends loved their Blackwings: John Steinbeck, Truman Capote, E.B. White, Aaron Copeland, Leonard Bernstein, Stephen Sondheim, Eugene O'Neill. You had me at Capote and White.
2. Restore & Release Yoga class tonight with Krystal at Yoga Mechanics in Montclair. "People say 'take up space,'" she said near the end. "You don't take up space, you fill the space you're given." I hope I got her wise words right. Also, lovely music and a drop of moon oil at the end, so beautiful.
3. Jones Road The Nail Polish Kit from Montclair resident Bobbi Brown. I brushed on Poppy tonight, her signature red. It feels modern and clean, went on smoothly, dried quickly. The kit includes a bottle that doubles as base and top coat. Yay. 
   
   
   
4. The New York Times cookbook, No-Recipe Recipes by Sam Sifton. I bought the crimson, cloth-covered book at Friends NYC shop in Bushwick, Brooklyn on Saturday on a fun weekend with Kim, Liz and Nan. Already made the savory French toast with torn basil and tomatoes and the pasta with puttanesca sauce. Empowering and stylish book. I take it with me to the supermarket.
5. Wednesday interactions with Figgy. My niece Leah, up in Maine. My sister. My garden.

Good night.

Catching Up: Spring Break & Easter Sunday

Figgy and me on Easter Sunday with Sis's sweet dog, Galena, aka Little Professor. 🍒🌸

Sorry to scrunch this all together in one post, but it's a constant push-pull. Do I have time to blog, which I love and miss, or should I Swiffer the dirty kitchen floor, feed the pansies and perennials in the garden, take a walk or send out story pitches? 

Load the dishwasher so I'm set up in a clean kitchen to cook another healthy meal or wait for Dan to get back and wade through that full counter and sink? (I'm opting for the latter today. But keeping up with an organized, usable kitchen cycle also encourages Punch, who enjoys cooking, with and without friends, including code name Romeo.) Yesterday I made a broccoli Cheddar quiche and still haven't cleaned up. If I have an assignment, I do focus on that first and foremost. After all, an editor is waiting on the other end. But in between, things get murkier.

Last week (April 14 to 18, including Good Friday) was Punch's high school spring break. It was Dan's idea to spend a couple of nights in a nice/splurge hotel in the city, where we could go to a Broadway show, see NYC sights on foot and P and I could get spa treatments. We took the NJ Transit train in and out of NYC from Montclair and the round trip cost (for each senior! age 62 and up) is only $8.10!!!! It was more comfortable than a crowded airplane, and the ride is under an hour. We enjoyed facials and pampering, and Dan and I saw "Oh, Mary!" on Broadway. Lots of laughs and wit, period details and a clever twist on Lincoln-era history. Cole Escola, 38, born in Clatskanie, Oregon, wrote and stars in the play. They are gifted.

Back in Montclair at 11:30 a.m. Easter Mass, I saw a single, beautiful white flowering branch on the altar. (My true friends at Bartlett's Greenhouses & Florist, a 100-year-old (+) family business in Clifton, do the Saint Cassian's flowers.) I saw pretty pink fashions on women--a mom and wife in flowy, taffy pink pants, the hems pooling over her high heels. A twenty something, with her boyfriend, wore an expensive sweater with subtle pinks and golds in the weave. Her brunette hair had a few copper highlights from the sun. I didn't spot a single Easter bonnet, but maybe I just missed them. I arrived late and didn't get a seat. Being old*, I had to go downstairs and sit a bit because unlike most Sunday Masses, Easter Mass was long, well over an hour. A long time to stand in heels. I liked the priest's white and gold vestment, the little girls in floral dresses, their well-dressed, well-behaved and attractive young parents, Dads in sweater vests, good shoes. I liked it all, that slice of Catholic life on a happy occasion. I thought of my own parents, how it must have been to bring four children to church. Wow.

Two nights and three days in a NYC hotel. Love that blue sofa.

I felt like we had a NYC studio apt. for that short time. Sunset was pretty. 

But I couldn't sleep the first night, Sunday. Trucks backing up, brakes screeching all night. 

Sanitation trucks? Mail trucks? I was up til 4:30 a.m. The second night, I slept like a baby.

 

Code name Romeo, Punch and Punch's friend in hotel room, 19th floor.

The friends bussed in and joined for one night. We had a suite.

Breakfast was included in the room rate. The lattes were everything I hoped for.

Sis and me on Easter, Branch Brook Park cherry blossom trees. 🍒🌸🌸

Now I'm back and I feel refreshed. And glad to have blogged again.

*I say I'm old in jest. I may be 64 but I feel like I'm 40. I don't feel old except when I acknowledge signs of old personhood, such as having to pee more often; owning deep frown lines and sun spots; and occasionally forgetting someone's name or an experience. Oh, and I like to be in bed by 10 p.m. latest, earlier if possible.

Influencing the Influencers

1. Yesterday I attended a virtual "lunch & learn." Writers/reporters/bloggers went to a 30-min presentation (1 to 1:30 p.m.) from Shaker Rawan, inventor of the Woddle, a futuristic AI diaper changing dock with built-in scale, warmer, night light, noise machine and touchscreen tracker to log diapers, feedings and sleep. Also, app syncing, so parents and caregivers can share the info. Cost, about $299. It's marketed as an AI parent coach: "Get instant answers and milestone reminders when you need them most." 

           

Naturally, Shaker is a father himself, with a son and a daughter. I've been invited to sessions where             organizers dangle a Starbucks card code so you can enjoy a coffee while you listen. And to info panels where the beauty products are sent to us ahead of time, the better to experience them. This is the first virtual lunch I attended with an Uber Eats code. That was smart, and a worthy investment when you consider the social media coverage an event like that can generate. Invite below. I think it's okay to share it here. 

2. Also yesterday: Three boxes of Bubbies mochi, the treats with a Hawaiian history, arrived at my door in a snug chest with dry ice. It worked: The individual ice cream portions were frozen solid. You have to let them soften a bit for pure enjoyment. The roster includes new flavors like Milk Tea, Churro, Matcha Green Tea and Raspberry Cheesecake. I requested samples of Cookies and Cream, Alphonso Mango (a creamy mango native to India) and Ube Purple Yam for mochi lover Punch. (I see they also make plant-based mochi, with oat milk, which I will find for Figgy.) 

I noticed this brand for decades in the Kings and Whole Foods freezers but now their profile is busting out of the boxes. They are even at Costco. The crayon-colored purple ube ones are inviting; 90 cals each, good portion control if you defrost one at a time. Fun to look at and eat. Celebratory.

Punch, 18, was most excited about that ube flavor, which vanished first. But mango is her favorite fruit. "They taste like real mango," she said. And we know real mango. We remember the one she had that Labor Day when we walked over the Brooklyn Bridge with me and Dan. A lady was selling cut mangos right before the bridge incline. For Easter, I asked Dan to get mango. I usually slice it myself but we got precut. "It's not ripe," was the first thing Punch and I said upon tasting. I wanted to bring it back to ShopRite and get a refund with the receipt, but it was Easter, and I didn't follow through.

"Bubbies was named after our founder Keith Robbins’s grandmother," says Eleni Fritz at Rachel Kay Finn Partners in NYC. "Keith started it as a scoop shop in 1985 on the island of Oahu, where he perfected ice cream and mochi recipes." In 2018, Bubbies moved from Hawaii to mainland USA.

Sign up for the newsletter at https://bubbiesicecream.com/ to get a BOGO store coupon. 

According to dictionary.com

mochi

[ moh-chee] noun

1. Cooked and pounded glutinous rice formed into various shapes and used to make traditional Japanese sweets and other dishes (often used attributively) mochi balls; mochi ice cream

2. Also called but·ter mo·chi. a sticky, spongy Hawaiian dessert whose principal ingredients are butter, sugar, eggs, rice flour, and coconut milk.