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.

Does the Recipe Need More Cream? A Shower of Dark Black Pepper? Straw & Hay and "Ashes & Ink"

By Alice Garbarini Hurley

    Many Italian chefs offer a pasta classic called Straw and Hay. On Friday, I made Lidia Bastianich's version from her book of favorite recipes. The straw is regular (straw-colored) fettuccine and the hay is green (spinach) fettuccine. Add Parmigiano Reggiano, chicken broth, heavy cream, EVOO, prosciutto, baby peas, scallions.... It's an appealing idea, the recipe takes only one page in the book and is prepared in a skillet. I enjoy Lidia, and I enjoyed making it. But it wasn't exactly all I hoped for. 

Spice, teen taster, thought it needed salt, and I thought it needed more clingy richness, like that first Fettuccine Alfredo sauce I made at Dumont High School in the International Chefs' Club. I opened The Pollan Family Table cookbook (Corky, Tracy and Michael Pollan) and found another pasta in a white cream sauce---with butter, garlic, grated Parmesan, and more cream and black pepper than Lidia uses. Also: Plenty of spinach to boost the nutrition. So I made those additions.

In the end, it was good enough. But I think next time, I will also add some grilled chicken.

***  

 

Julian Shatkin as Quinn and Kathryn Erbe as his mother, Molly, in "Ashes & Ink," about addiction. Photo by Thomas Mundell.

Another two-noun title this week that was not quite everything I wanted/expected it to be: The off-Broadway production of "Ashes & Ink," a drama about addiction. The A word is almost a character.

Molly (Kathryn Erbe) is a pretty widow in an Eileen Fisher-style sweater coat. She lives in her tidy city apartment, wearing a headset, cataloging an extensive library of birdsong with a computer program. It's her business. She and her belated husband listened to birds of all feathers. The recordings also include their son, Quinn. Listen: A baby babbling, then the chirp and trill of a juvenile song sparrow. As a young mother, Molly compared the two sounds.

Now an addict in his 20s, Quinn (handsome standout Julian Shatkin, a boy in the 2014 film "Like Sunday, Like Rain") returns from Serenity House rehab, drops his duffel, sits in the chair where Molly had arranged a folded, fringed throw--stylish, homey. "That place was bullshit," he says. Right off, you know. His disorderly conduct and unpredictability are in stark contrast to the calm home, with a few bright Post-it memos on the wall and yellow No. 2 pencils neatly arranged in a cup.

Good luck with such serenity when an addict's sure foothold (in this case, in black Converse high-tops) is in the house. With his black leather jacket and silver rings, Quinn's surprise return is jarring. Molly's love partner, Leo (Francisco Solorzano at this performance) is a widower with a young son, Felix (Rhylee Watson), who adores Quinn but finds a crack pipe big brother buried under an oak tree at the country house. Felix was digging for acorns when he cut his hand. A deep cut for a parent. Shame. Your older child modeling substance abuse for a younger sibling. Making a faint effort to bury it, but no. You failed once, now might fail again because you could not nip the problem in the bud. What a loser you are. Two lives now about to be wasted at your hands.

That's how "fixers" talk to themselves. People who drain their own sanity and health, thinking it is their responsibility to solve the problem, rather than remain standing, even personally thriving, in the face of it. To be better and do better, to do their best, family members eventually arrive at acceptance. 

The Al-Anon part is good. We learn about a secret society. First, Molly faces the hand she was dealt, which takes a lot out of her, out of us all. "Where are you? Where’s my little boy who loves spinach and pirates and snowy owls?" Molly asks. "You hold your beautiful baby in your arms and smell the breast milk, crusting a little behind his ears. I’d dip Q-tips in baby oil and clean back there, really gently. Rock him to sleep and then...who knew... you end up holding a body bigger than yours and pray that he’s still breathing." 

Quinn (Julian Shatkin) and his mother, Molly (Kathryn Erbe). Photo by Thomas Mundell.

"Take Care of You. Who?" She tells of "a drudgy meeting in a dark church hall," code for Al-Anon. Molly's blue denim jacket looks small, so small on her dainty frame, but she is a fighter, a would-be warrior, silvery streaks in her hair, faint crinkles around her eyes. Life's badges, which we mothers see, and celebrate. We know the little creases are hard-earned and true. No mother wants addiction at her door. She loses precious time that could go toward, among other things, bedtime beauty cream rituals. Or work, or creativity. Or other family members. 

We are tiny but mighty in the face of A's force and grip. Like Molly, we learn the three C's of Al-Anon. "I didn’t cause it, I can’t control it, and I can’t cure it." It lifts the blame.  

"Having you here and not knowing where you are is a fucking nightmare," Molly finally says to her son. "Hand me your keys. Leave me be until you can learn to stay alive. You know where to go for help."

Only problem, the story may be a bit too neatly tied up with a square knot. Molly's clearheadedness, bravery and hope, her success at getting Quinn out, at least for now, with support from Leo. IRL, it can take what feels like a lifetime to get there, and maybe there is a catharsis in watching others struggle with us, not pull it together. There's nothing neatly tied up about addiction, for the addict or a bystander. Still, this story helps us ponder, find inner strength. Know we are not alone. We wonder from seat F1 how the writer, Martha Pichey, knows all this.

The play is directed by Alice Jankell, mother to the actor who plays Quinn, with that great hair, ripped* muscles--and a tattoo that may or may not be made from both his father's ashes and studio ink.

Ashes & Ink
At the AMT Theater, Manhattan.

Performance time: 90 minutes. Running through the 2 p.m. matinee on Sunday, November 3.

Leo: Javier Molina.

Bree (Molly's sister): Tamara Flannagan.

Scenic Design: Tim McMath.

Costume Design: Kaitlin Feinberg.

Sound Design: Alexis Attalla.

Lighting Design: Paul Hudson.

Al-Anon Family Groups: alanon.org.

*Merriam-Webster says "ripped" means

1. being under the influence of alcohol or drugs: high, stoned
2. having high muscle definition

Rejected, Ejected

Vintage black-tie image from Gentlemansgazette.com. Here is the link. 

It happened three nights ago, Wednesday, May 15 at a famous 14K gold hotel in New York City.

I will not wield a poison pen (or tap poison keystrokes) to write this, though I did feel hurt and vengeful in the moment.

I had received a media invite (an email, typical these days) to attend a black-tie charity dinner for a women's/family cause. I mulled it over. I don't have a black-tie wardrobe, or a shoe and handbag closet to pluck from.

The cause was important. I wasn't sure how I got on the invite chain, but I thought it might be related to a recent event I attended and wrote about. I RSVP'd yes.

I got my hair blown out. I asked Debbie to spray it hard so it would hold, especially on that damp day. I don't have an evening gown, but thought that would be okay, that the long list of media outlets I had seen on the invite would not all present in black-tie. I wore a pretty maxi dress, my very good vintage Kenneth Jay Lane earrings--the ones I'm wearing in my blog profile photo--and a cocktail ring, aquamarine set in gold prongs, from an antique shop on the coast of Maine. (I often wonder who owned it, and when. Did her husband present it? It makes a statement.) I booked a spot in a parking garage using SpotHero, and drove with my wipers on through congested traffic. I had a new Lilly Pulitzer notepad in my bag.

I was turned away.

Alice, go with her, the person in charge said loudly. "Her" was the young woman checking media names at the door. She had already combed and recombed the list and couldn't find me, then walked me over to see the woman in charge, who was standing among people in evening wear. Photos were being taken.

Did I mention that I had already met that person once, at a chic Soho shop event pre-Covid? As I recall, she held the reins pretty tight that time, too.

Was I an interloper, or a person who had been invited?

Next thing I knew, a man in black tie with eyeglasses appeared, and like a bad scene from "The Devil Wears Prada," he ushered me to the elevator, pushed the glowing button and waited to watch me descend, as though I would put up a fight or make a scene.

I have the media invite, I said, showing him my iPhone.

I'm sorry, we can't accommodate you. 

That's ridiculous. 

We sent out an email last night to let people know who made the list.

Well, I didn't get an email. And did you send one out to people who didn't make the list, too? That would be important. I drove all the way in from Montclair New Jersey.

I'm sorry we can't accommodate you.

That's too bad. It sounds like a good cause.

They all are.

This is outrageous. And as the doors closed, Please take me off your list.

Rejected. Ejected. Back to the coat check.

You're leaving? said the handsome black attendant. He and his co-worker, a white woman, had been the only two friendly people I'd met. Isn't it often that way? They had made me feel welcome.

Yeah.

He handed me my cardigan sweater and umbrella.

------------------------------------------------------

I thought, and maybe still do, they were not letting me in because of my dress, shoes, blowout (even with my hairspray helmet!), weight or age. They could see all that but they could not see my carefully acquired toolbox of words, the way my pen glides and flows, taking notes in my own shorthand, the details I drink in and capture, the colorful story I can tell and make come alive. They could not see my gift for connecting with people from many walks of life.

It wasn't until I checked on my cell phone later that I did indeed find an email, which had been sent out at about midnight the night before, saying I was not now on the list to attend.

So Tuxedo had not been lying about that.

So the email had gone out before they had seen me, before my dress and shoes had not been enough. Before I appeared with some frown lines, no Botox. Before they saw me but did not see my brain and heart.

---------------------------------------

It still felt bad. I had prepaid for parking (until 11 p.m.!), so I wandered around alone in my maxi dress with my Totes umbrella, up and down 57th Street. Past Bergdorf's, closed for the evening but its stylish windows (featuring a Marc Jacobs jeweled dress) always open. By the now shuttered restaurant, Mangia, that we editors used to love, past Carnegie Hall, where Dan took me to see Judy Collins when we were expecting Figgy. Then 224 West 57th Street, the old Hearst building, the gilded birdcage that housed Cosmopolitan. The Great American Health Bar, a holdout for carrot cake and soup, opened decades ago. An Italian restaurant. The Brooklyn Diner. 

As a I walked west, the tall towers ahead were half wrapped in mist. Gauzy skirts. 

It's still my city, I thought. Still the city I love, and no one can take that away from me.

I walked to Nordstrom, pot of gold at the end of my path, conveniently open til 9 p.m. with its convenient Prada Beauty alcove on the first floor that would take me in with open arms, not turn me away. I had read about Prada lipstick in WWD. (The gift guide drew me in with "We’re partial to the B105 shade for its modern take on the ’90s-inspired brown lipstick look.") 

I wanted to try it, but it's hard to choose a lip or cheek color online. Here was my chance to get a hands-on consultation. Ivan came through. He's right, the Prada Balm in the brand's signature mint green is cushiony and soft, addictive on its own or under the lipstick. (It does not go on green.) And he found a top color for me. Tonka. I love it. It brings out my eyes. And it's refillable so I don't have to add to the beauty landfill quite so much.

I then had a ridiculously overpriced yet somehow skimpy corned beef reuben on rye in a diner, for dinner, served with a tiny pleated paper cup of very good coleslaw and a rubbery pickle spear. No fries, but I didn't want the side salad on the plate. I stared down the cheesecakes and chocolate cakes taking star turns in a lit carousel by the entrance. I did succumb later to a crumb cake square from a deli. Then I headed back home, the lights of my glittery city in the rearview mirror.

At least, I thought, I turned a lost opportunity into a beauty win. And I do feel good about that. Now I just have to practice enough self-care to consistently build in time for makeup, because I look and feel better, younger and more confident when I wear it. The Tonka lipstick, yes.

P.S. When Dan heard what happened, he was upset. He told me I should call the people the next morning and complain. I know Dan, and I know he likes to stand up for me. I appreciate his loyalty. It touched me when I was fired from a magazine as a young writer. When the editor's name came up in conversation for a while, he would say Grrrrr, like a dog about to bite. But I can stand up for myself. For that reason, I won't tell him any details, like the name of the people or the charitable cause. 

P.P.S. Monday, 12:45 p.m. I just had my weekly telehealth therapy appointment with my wise therapist. It may have been brought to my attention by the end that: a. They had a strict limit on people; b. I hadn't checked my email to look for one from them before driving into the city; c. They have professional skills, but maybe kindness is not top of mind; and d. I internalized what happened and allowed myself to feel bad about it. Yes.

Back from Eclipse Chasing

Punch + Romeo on the museum terrace, near Central Park.

The teens made fast friends with New Yorkers around them, 

from a retired teacher to a museum guard. 

I used odd "lasso" effect to encircle photo. I'd like to redo/perfect/play 

with it more, but I have to do my work.

Michael + Dan near Canada. Full totality.

Our threesome in New York, New York.

I was on the terrace behind the Museum of Natural History in New York, New York to watch the solar eclipse with family (and strangers, who became fast friends). We three, even our hard-to-impress teen girl, are glad we went. Romeo, Punch and I are tired now. Walked to cute old train station in Montclair, boarded 10:56 a.m. double decker to NY Penn Station, explored Moynihan Train Hall, bustling and fun, and took C subway to 81st Street/museum stop ($2.90 per person each way when I used my debit card at the turnstile, still a pretty good deal).

Dan and his close pal drove all the way up in Vermont near Canada to see the full effect and are stuck in crawling traffic back tonight. They couldn't find coffee or a bathroom on those narrow highways. Figgy and friend drove to Lake George and then another viewing destination in New York State. (Both parties left a day ahead and found lodging.) Punchy's school closed at 1 p.m. today for the eclipse (so everyone "could stay safe") and Romeo has spring break this week. So we let Punch miss the short school day. It was history. It was good. So cool to see that flat, perfectly round shadowy black skillet bottom glide slowly, slowly over the fiery cooking flame of the sun. We didn't see totality but all cardboard eclipse glasses on, necks craned, faces to the sky at 3:25 p.m. Eastern Time. No flash in the pan. Totally worth it.

Fun with Celia in the Greatest City in the World

SMØR Bakery in the East Village, so close to where my friend Celia lives, in Stuyvesant Town, and just doors away from my brother John's apartment*. Who knew? Thanks, Celia, for taking me there. Photo by Karsten Moran for The New York Times. 

I took the train into Penn Station (the Moynihan Hall renovation is finally coming along) to meet my friend Celia for lunch in the East Village.

It's late, so I will do a punch list:

• Round trip NJ Transit train ride from Mountain Avenue Montclair only $7.15 for a senior. Bargain.
• Two subways, the E and the 6. Good to be back in the midst of things. Police presence, two friendly officers helped when I doublechecked that the uptown E would go to Astor Place.
• We ate at Little Poland, a restaurant not far from the Ukrainian hotspot Veselka (which was packed) on Second Avenue. They had little, freshly baked loaves of Easter bread by the register, $6 a pop. I got one for my family. I had Swedish meatballs, steamed carrots, red cabbage, potato pancake.
• Celia and I went to PlantShed on Second Ave. Gorgeous flowers (fat fuchsia roses on long stems), heavenly candles and lotions, tiny flowerpots, a nice cafe with good-looking pastries, such as  teddy bear financiers, and matcha coffee drinks. We just browsed, but I would like to go back.
• I realized my oldest brother, John, lives a block away. I called him, and then Celia and I popped by. He couldn't come out, but he looked much better than when I saw him last, in the hospital. I really like his neighborhood. We will be talking soon.
• SMØR Bakery on East 12th Street! Oh my goodness. I can't wait to return. Nordic, with hearty loaves, sandwiches, pastries etc.! The sesame sourdough rolls are SO GOOD, chewy and thoroughly seeded. Scandinavian-inspired space, shelves stocked with jarred herring, imported licorice bears and rich chocolate spread (like but not Nutella). Here is NY Times report. Smör/SMØR means "butter" in Swedish.
• Celia (who is Jewish) took me into Immaculate Conception Church on First Avenue. I think I've been there once before, but had forgotten. Good Friday liturgy....we caught a glimpse of the holy service, the procession, the crucifix swathed in crimson cloth, full pews for the 3 p.m. service. We didn't go in past the glass doors but saw beautiful statues in the alcove.
• MTA crosstown bus. Liked it.
• Dan had a poker game here with Michael, Dean, John and Gary tonight. It looked like fun. Dan is always happy when surrounded by his friends or his four older brothers.
• After driving Punchy to Fort Lee for a birthday party, I motored over to Whole Foods in West Orange for Easter basket treats for my family. Also pink tulips, lavender epsom salts, oat milk creamer, vegan butter, etc., delicious-looking mango-filled vegan cookies for Easter dessert that I can tell everyone will like.
• Car wouldn't start when I left Whole Foods. I had to call AAA; thank God we have it, and cell phones, too. Anthony came fast and towed our car back home, while I sat in the warm cab on a cold night. We also had to pay (a lot) to Uber Punch back from Fort Lee. We are hoping to get a new car soon. Figgy and her car were at her new apartment Friday.
• High stepping, with those subway steps, the NJ Transit train and getting up and down from Anthony's tow truck. (Back home, Dan was there to help me.) I am getting older. And for all the truth and beauty of life, that is sobering.

Good night to you.

*My other brother, Will, lives in a NYC apartment too. I am the baby of four.

Eye Rest vs. Blog Post

See, tomorrow night will be a week since I drove into NYC and posted NEW YORKER FILM SCREENING IN TRIBECA. I have my Lilly Pulitzer wirebound narrow notepad, the one I scrawled in when the lights went down. 

I haven't seen a steno pad in years, the friendly photographer said as the credits rolled.

I know, I said. I love writing with pen on paper, though. 

Me too, he said, and we smiled.

It made a little crisp sound when I flipped each page in the dark. The notebook looks like this, and is not an official steno pad. Now I see it's unavailable on Amazon and I hope I find more, after I flip it over and use the other (blank) sides of the pages.

Anyway, I've been busy with magazine assignments. I hope to do my movie recap tomorrow? 

Good night.

Off-Broadway Review: Ike Mans up in ‘Eisenhower: This Piece of Ground’

John Rubinstein in "Eisenhower: This Piece of Ground."

Photo by Maria Baranova.

A solo performance brings back America’s 1950s president, unearthing his Kansas roots, true grit and swagger. More than 60 years after his second term ended, Eisenhower’s ideals sound pretty convincing in these troubled political times. 

By Alice Garbarini Hurley

June 22, 2023

Turns out Republican President Dwight D. Eisenhower (in office 1953 to 1961) was not the stuffed chair he was sometimes portrayed to be, an outdated item to whisk out of the White House, along with all signs of thrifty first lady Mamie, so Camelot could sweep in. 

The Kennedys brought visions of Harvard, suntans, sailing, white-toque chefs and Paris fashions, not to mention expensive new furnishings. And Ike’s hard-won leadership lessons, still relevant today, were almost lost, left behind.

The 34th president wasn’t Ivy League. To finance a college education without help from his beleaguered parents, he set his sights on West Point. That propelled him into an Army career, culminating as five-star general during World War II, leading the Allies. He clung to his Kansas family’s practical wisdom. His mother "had six boys in three rooms, all rotating chores--doing the laundry, hoeing the corn, milking the cow, spading the ground." When Ike tore his trousers, he paid back his parents every dime that a new pair cost.

Based on an immersive study of President Eisenhower’s memoirs, speeches and letters, director Peter Ellenstein and playwright Richard Hellesen have stitched together a picture of this man at an acute moment in his life, when a New York Times Magazine article that summer, "Our Presidents: A Rating  by 75 Historians," by Arthur M. Schlesinger, put Eisenhower at a demoralizing #22. The play sets out to turn that around, and it does.

It is July 1962 when we meet him, played to a precise turn by John Rubinstein, who had the title role in "Pippin" and won the Tony for "Children of a Lesser God." We are at the Gettysburg farm Ike owns with Mamie, his wife of 46 years. He is 71. 

Rubinstein conveys likable confidence in every glance, every turn of his wrist; in the lift of a coffee cup or the pouring of scotch. We see self-assurance, and an occasional trademark loss of temper. "Hell’s fire!" says the son of a Bible-reading family, pounding on his desk in a moment of anger. His pants hang just so over his fit Army physique. His soul, it seems, is tethered to a neat, closely held code of ethics, and to his own set of high expectations. 

"Eisenhower" follows other captivating shows with a master cast of one--"Tru," Robert Morse’s transformation into an aging Truman Capote (1989) and "Ann," starring Holland Taylor as spicy Texas Governor Ann Richards (2013). Skilled solo performances lift characters from flat pages. The dead come to life. They walk and talk. And we hear their voices long after the final bow, as we ride on the subway and walk through the cereal aisle.

Throughout the play, photographs of the president’s birth family, Mamie, tense moments in history and more are projected against a fertile Pennsylvania farm backdrop. 

Speaking into a tape recorder with his musings for a memoir, Ike talks squarely, yet with ripples of regret and pain over horrors he witnessed.

A German concentration camp. "Most of our group couldn't get through it. Hell, George Patton got sick. But I forced myself to see every last inch of that camp. Then I marched the local population through it, so they could never say ‘they didn't know.’"

The integration battle at Central High School in Little Rock, Arkansas. The governor called off the National Guard, leaving the students to face angry mobs. "So the next troops to arrive in Little Rock were that Hundred and First Airborne that led the way on D-Day. I think that was the hardest decision I had to make as president: putting troops into an American city, where they do not belong. But it was a matter of justice, pure and simple. The law was enforced--those children got the education they had a right to."

The McCarthy hearings. McCarthy was "a fascist in a rumpled suit," a skunk, with Roy Cohn at his side. "The skunk and the weasel," Ike called them. 

Book burning. McCarthy planned to have books written by "Communists or leftists" in State Department libraries overseas be taken off the shelf and burned. "Don’t join the book burners! If we start believing that every individual or party that disagrees with us is somehow wicked or treasonous, then we are near the end of freedom's road."

Grave personal loss. Icky, who was Ike and Mamie’s first child, died in his dad's arms from scarlet fever at age 3. Ike blamed himself, because he had hired a maid, Mary, a girl who said she had scarlet fever but had recovered. "That first loss…it’s haunted me for 40 years," he says. "I said I always wanted to find a reason for things that happened--but what could possibly be the reason…Except to let it guide you for the rest of your life." 

The ground reference is real. "This piece of ground, that we all share...if we're going to leave our young people something better, then we just can't be complacent. We must never be content with half truth when the whole truth can be ours. We have to keep choosing the harder right instead of the easier wrong." Words to ponder, with criminal and FBI investigations facing a former president who plans to run for reelection.

Eisenhower: This Piece of Ground

At the Theatre at St. Clement’s, Manhattan; eisenhowertheplay.com. Original seven-week engagement extended through August 20.  Running time: 1 hour and 50 minutes.

En Route to NYC to See “The Lion King”

 🦁🦁👑🤴

I’m on the #66 bus to the Port Authority, in slow-poke traffic on Route 3 East, due to an accident. My seat is right behind the bus driver, and I hear him and other drivers radioing back and forth about possible detours to take.

Dan and I saw this smash 🦁 hit on Broadway with mini Figgy (about age 3, so small); our full-time nanny/babysitter, Maria; and her young son, Fabian. It was our treat for the latter two. I felt very indebted to the other mother who was not home after school with her grade-school son, but keeping my little girl safe while I worked in a venerable magazine office in the glittery city. What job could be more important than Maria’s?

But Sis has wanted to see it for decades. She often very generously treats me to tickets and more but this time, Dan and I are covering the two sister tickets for Sis’s April birthday.

I love the music and can’t wait to revisit the show. Lionking.com

Final Season of “Younger” Does Not Disappoint

Above: Liza Miller (Sutton Foster) and Kelsey Peters (Hilary Duff) on “Younger” this season. Image from THE CINEMAHOLIC.COM.

I love this show (based on a novel by a long-time Montclair writer, redheaded Pamela R. S., who recently moved to the West Coast).

The premise: A divorced mother from the suburbs who is about 40 pretends to be 26 so she can re-enter the workforce in NYC...with a job in the publishing world. Everything about it is delicious, from the characters to the clothing. Hilary Duff, as Liza’s fellow editor, is excellent.

Sad that this (seventh) season is the last.... we haven’t seen Liza, Charles, Josh and crew since 2019. I’ve missed them. The pandemic put a lot of joys on hold.

The first four episodes were released to watch free--if you have Hulu or Paramount. Free, okay, but a ton of short commercial breaks, for everything from Chambord Raspberry Liqueur (to mix with Prosecco for a cocktail) to vaccine promotions, Google ads and repeated plugs for Stanley Steemer home cleaning service.

Here’s what I loved:

• Hilary Duff’s look! She is quite short next to tall Liza (Sutton Foster) but the styling! Long white overcoats, heels, a creamy sweater with cutout neckline, long skirts, short dresses, rich blouses, great lipstick, pretty ponytails. It’s a big part of the show, the style watching. I’m not sure when this season was filmed, but maybe Duff, 33 in real life, is in so many great coats to hide her pregnancy?--she just delivered her third child in March.
• Ditto on dressing the star of the show (Foster). Kelly green sweater, long hemlines, black wetsuit for surfing scenes in Montauk. (We do not see her actually surf.)
• The leading men. Very handsome, very good sideways and subtle glances. Charles has impeccably cut suits and shirts--and hair.
• The scriptwriting. Fast-paced, witty, trendy NYC.
• Best city in the world. Rooftop parties, the Rainbow Room, Williamsburg, press/book launches, coffee with oat milk--not to mention the aerial view of Montauk and the lighthouse there.

Since Dan has written several books, I do find some of the inner workings of the book publishing world to be a bit unreal/inaccurate. Dan is not a celebrity author, but he has gotten some nice $$ advances/contracts. He works very hard crafting/researching detailed pitches and his very good/high-profile agent shops them around to multiple publishers. But on the show, the authors come in and pitch their books to the team....it’s very entertaining, just don’t know if it is real.

Moreover, I guess we really don’t know if the world will be back in offices full-time again...so that is another question. No one working remotely.

We had some choppy waters again today (Dan has a tick bite but got to doctor, Sis had to take Buttercup to vet for a reason, Skippy was here briefly with Mimi and we had bumps), but catching this on my laptop was pure fun. Watched all four already. Escapism at its best.

Good night.

Rainy Saturday in NYC

Good

• Morning support group. Wise, insightful friends. I've been early for many Saturdays now--not just one. I used to be really late, which only cheats me. Now I set my alarm for 7:30, so I even have time to shower.
• Late [2 pm] lunch at Coppola's on Third Avenue and 28th Street with Sis, Dan, Punch, my brother Will and Kelly.
• Excellent brushetta. Punchy remembered it from last year. We have to get the proscuitto, she said. Alice, you know, with the bread. Proscuitta. Pruschetta. I told her they had a proscuitto sandwich on the menu. But when she kept putting the a on the end, I figured it out. She also loved the tiramisu.
• Sis made Torrone, the nougat candy our grandma used to bring us as kids. Hers was too soft, she said, so she baked it in meringue form. Very good.

Bad

• Dan snags perfect free parking spaces in NYC but today, he thought he had paid for 4 hours. However, the ticket said 4 pm, we discovered when we got back to the car after 5 and found a $65 ticket tucked under the windshield wiper. 
• Sitting in a restaurant for 3 hours is probably hard for many young people and especially for our young person with ADHD--who only gets her medicine on schooldays. Especially hard without technology, but I am really against technology. Yesterday was not good in that regard. Thank goodness Figgy and her friend went ice skating last night and took Punch along--off the couch, away from the screens, onto the ice. We let P have Dan's phone for the last 20 minutes at the restaurant today.
• She took her skateboard out of the car after I forbade it and tried to skateboard with no helmet in NYC. The possibility of a sleepover was lost. Tears ensued.

Good night to you.

$ MONEY SPENT OUT OF POCKET

• Slice of veggie pizza, $4.
• Vesta Chocolate, 2 small cups dark Dominican Republic hot chocolate made with oat milk, one to bring Figgy at work. With tax, about $10.60.

Total daily spend: $14.60. [Dan pulled cash from HIS wallet at restaurant to pay our part. Even though we share expenses, of course, it's the ones for which I dip into my purse or pocket that I track here. And Sis/Auntie insisted on paying for Punchy's lunch today. Generous.]

Ongoing monthly spend as of Jan. 25: $2,694.75.

avg daily spend: $107.79.

COMPARE TO LAST 5 MONTHS:

december 2019 [Christmas and all that entails]

total monthly spend as of Dec. 31: $3,998.16. 

avg daily spend: $128.97. 

Total spend for November (30 days): $2,979.03. 

Average daily spend: $99.30. 

__________________________________________________________________

TOTAL SPEND FOR OCTOBER (31 DAYS): $2,495.36.

AVERAGE DAILY SPEND: $80.49.

_____________________________________________________________________

TOTAL SPEND FOR SEPTEMBER (30 DAYS): $2,214.43.

AVERAGE DAILY SPEND: $73.81.

___________________________________________________________________________

TOTAL SPEND FOR AUGUST (31 DAYS/PLUS VACAY IN HERE): $2,895.06. ⬆️

AUGUST AVERAGE DAILY SPEND: $93.39.  ⬆️

With Age, Laugh Crinkles--and Wisdom

The older I get, the more I appreciate the BIG little things on my birthday.

I once received--and sent--a lot of birthday cards. I lined them up on my kitchen counter in Ocean Grove.

Now I get only a handful.

I have some laugh crinkles around my eyes and two deep furrows, worry lines, between my knitted brows, from years of serious pondering and concentrating. But gifts--I have such gifts.

I am so grateful for Moey's texts and for talking to her today. For Sis, her card, seeing her yesterday and taking a short, brisk walk at Greenwich Point with our little dogs and Punch AND for the lunch she and her friend treated me to in NYC today. For the sweet card from co-workers. For what Dan just carried in...I haven't peeked yet, but it looks like pretty things with green stems. For Elaine bringing a tray of homemade manicotti and a fresh loaf of Italian bread to the door.

For the striking sunset I saw from the 5 pm #66 bus heading home, black and white reruns of "The Andy Griffith Show" and a family coming together as best it can to sing "Happy Birthday" to me over berries and whipped cream. For the single pink taper in an angel candle holder...

I may need a dab more eye cream.....and a lot more hair color....but I still feel young.

Good night to you.

TCOY

1. Salon blowout at 9 am.
2. Important work interview today. I visualized walking in with so many people behind me to cheer me on--Dad, my grandmothers, Sis, Punch, Fig, Dan, Moey, Patsy, my friend Sarah. I also had the tiny silver rosary beads in my handbag--the ones my grandma Rosie brought back from Rome, and a crystal from the CALM collection Patsy sent.
3. Nice hot shower.
4. Good coffee, brewed by Dan.

$ MONEY SPENT OUT OF POCKET MONDAY & TUESDAY

• MetroCard refill, $6.
• Cookbook at Felidia, the restaurant where we lunched on E. 58th Street. It's the beloved flagship restaurant opened decades ago by Chef Lidia Bastianich. The 2019 cookbook, called Felidia, was at the front. I arrived first and well, the rest is history. I plan to make recipes from it. With tax, $38.11.
• Duane Reade, peppermint Tic Tacs, $2.17.
• Staples, made fresh copies of updated resume and crisp, colorful ones of some magazine clips, $17.28.
• Staples, white squishy clay for Punch, $3.72.
• Sunny Daes, Stamford, ice cream in waffle cone for Punch plus $1 tip, $7.25. Wow, that's $$.
• Milk, $5.
• Salon blowout for interview, plus tip, $45.
• Salon, purse-size tube of hand cream, $2.40.

total spend for Monday and Tuesday: $126.93.

ongoing monthly spend as of Jan. 21: $2,525.69.

avg daily spend: $120.27.

High Stakes: Bus Tix, Tights & Shoe Repair

After weeks of waiting for payments from four sources, I finally received one.

Therefore, I was finally able to pay for  things I needed.

Good night. I'm tired after a rough evening with Punch, to top off a day in the city.

TCOY

1. Walked 1 hour plus in NYC.
2. Water.
3. Finally got shoes repaired. My Tory Burch black wedges, bought two years ago this December, were scuffed and the heels were worn down. I went to the shoe repair place in the Port Authority on my way to work.
4. Ordered Wolford tights. These are a vital, stylish, feel-good part of my work uniform, and they last forever. One of my black pairs has a couple of tiny holes after many years.

$ MONEY SPENT OUT OF POCKET

• Bus fare, $7.65.
• Wolford.com, on bus, ordered 2 pair tights, one navy, one black, free shipping, $87.35.
• 10-trip bus tickets, $69.50.
• Shoe repair and polish, $27.50. 
• Clean Market, place I pass on walk from subway to office, drip coffee with oat milk, raw cacao ball and $1 tip, $8.86.
• ATM bank fees for two withdrawals, $8.50.
• Cuban lunch, very good, with $3 tip, $18.02.
• Le Pain Quotidien, 4 pm lag, needed coffee to get a writing jolt, got pumpkin spice latte and tinyish 88 percent dark choc bar plus tip, about $8.
• Dinner, 1 excellent piece Grandma's Sicilian pizza, $4.90 plus tip, $5.25.

TOTAL DAILY SPEND: $240.63.

RUNNING TOTAL FOR MONTH AS OF NOV. 12: $998.52.

AVG. DAILY SPEND: $83.21.

COMPARE TO 3 PRIOR MONTHS:

TOTAL SPEND FOR OCTOBER (31 DAYS): $2,495.36.🍎 ⬆️

AVERAGE DAILY SPEND: $80.49.🍎 ⬆️

_____________________________________________________________________

TOTAL SPEND FOR SEPTEMBER (30 DAYS): $2,214.43.🍎⬇️

AVERAGE DAILY SPEND: $73.81.🍎⬇️

_______________________________________________________________________________

TOTAL SPEND FOR AUGUST (31 DAYS): $2,895.06. ⬆️

AUGUST AVERAGE DAILY SPEND: $93.39.  ⬆️

Must Catch up Tomorrow

TCOY

1. Walked to Bergdorf Goodman from Port Authority and back again, to meet Sis and Diane for Sniffapalooza scent exploration day.
2. Had some salad.
3. Skipped dessert.

$ MONEY SPENT OUT OF POCKET

• Coffee bar on 5th floor of Saks Fifth Avenue, tall iced coffee plus tip, $5. Two free sample tiny cinnamon chocolate truffles, very good.
• Bergdorf's, set of 15 ponytail holders in their tony hair accessory alcove on Beauty Level with tax, $19.60.
• Sniffapalooza, Sis bought my ticket, which counted luncheon, and I will pay her back. When I do, will list here. Waiting for checks.
• That said, just used Nordstrom credit card for first time. The Nordy Rewards Club sounds, well, rewarding. I am working more steadily now. I will list any charges here, not when I pay the charge bill. One diptyque candle and one beautiful, very big Nest grapefruit candle [smelled heavenly when we sniffed it at Saks], $117. Free shipping. These brighten and beautify our home, soothing the whole family.

TOTAL DAILY SPEND: $141.60. 

really will crunch numbers soon! Didn't list bus tix to and from because I bought a ten-trip the other day, and list cost there.

Candy in the City

Candy--my nickname, her real name is Madonna, or Donna for short--was in the city for a couple days and I met her and her nice friend for dinner. Candy lives hours away now with her family, in Saratoga Springs, New York. Such a treat to see her.

All three of us earned our stripes--and heels, and handbags and insights--in the New York magazine world. Candy and Allegra worked together at two publications, including Women's Wear Daily, the fashion industry bible then in newspaper form. Candy and I were in offices across the hall from one another at Good Housekeeping and then she moved to Woman's Day, where I had started my career. All three of us worked at one time or another with Donna B., my boss for a while at GH.

The magazine world was--is?--a game of musical chairs.

Tonight we went to Chez Josephine, a charming restaurant on West 42nd Street that was opened by the son of famous French dancer Josephine Baker. It is a landmark, lovely and glamorous. Live piano music, excellent French food. My plate included petite, soft potato croquettes and slim green beans.

Isn't she lovely? Image of Josephine Baker from HERE.

Such a treat to eat at Chez Josephine.

TCOY, Day 5 off Sugar Road

1. Important personal writing, short but to the point.
2. Getting my ducks in a row for three writing projects.
3. Overnight oats with banana.
4. Did my makeup.
5. Fresh berries for dessert at Chez J. Did not even blink at what must surely be superior--and chic--French desserts.

$ MONEY SPENT OUT OF POCKET

• Lost a bet with Punch that she had homework--$1. But it turned out there was a technical problem and the teacher sent the homework email later. He hadn't sent his daily list, so I thought the girl was right.
• DeCamp, round trip bus fare to NYC from my corner, $15.30.
• Duane Reade in Port Authority. I forgot my slim golden Lilly Pulitzer makeup bag. In a pinch, bought Revlon eye-brightening concealer and a pot of pretty rose gold creme eye shadow. Fortunately, I had my Cherries in the Snow lipstick and Trish McEvoy mascara in my handbag. Still, $25.02. That's a lot, but I'm happy with the shadow pot.
• Dinner, including excellent main course and mixed berries with whipped cream in a glass goblet for dessert, plus tax and tip, $60. [We didn't have drinks or coffee, just ice water.]
• Tip for piano man, $2. He played "Moon River" and "Send in the Clowns."

TOTAL DAILY SPEND: $103.32.

RUNNING TOTAL FOR MONTH AS OF SEPTEMBER 19 [I ADDED YESTEDAY NOW]: $1,478.27.
AVERAGE DAILY SPEND SO FAR: $77.80.

Compare to last month:

TOTAL SPEND FOR MONTH OF AUGUST: $2,895.06. ⬆️

AUGUST AVERAGE DAILY SPEND: $93.39.  ⬆️

Big-ticket 🎟🎟 September spends:

🎟 Citarella at Hudson Yards, NYC, dinner; plus fresh fruit, etc. to bring home, $35.

🎟 Whole Foods, groceries, including present for Fig and big yellow mum plant, $84.

🎟 Whole Foods, groceries, including salmon for dinner and an iced coffee from the barista, $63.

🎟 ShopRite, groceries, laundry detergent etc., $50.

🎟 Sky Zone [worth it, Punchy went with her nice friends], $25.

🎟 Joyist, $29.

🎟 Kings, groceries, $46.

🎟 Piazza della Sole, comfy, high-end shoes, half-price, $90.
🎟 Gasoline, twice, $52.
🎟 Chinese lunch with Sis, $33.
🎟 Grocery shopping in Connecticut w Sis, $48.
🎟 CPAP dr. co-pay, specialist, $50.
🎟 Whole Foods again, including 3-pack soy candles, pound smoked salmon and Hydro Flask for Punch, $166.
🎟  Jackie's Grillette treat, casual dinner and soft drinks for three, plus tip, about $45.
🎟 Salon 212 blowout plus tips for job hunting Friday, $45.
🎟 Kings, prosciutto, fresh mozzarella for women's group platter, $58.
🎟 CVS, melatonin gummies, milk, Listerine, $30.
🎟 Kings, 1/2 gallon organic milk, 1/2 gallon oat milk, yellow baby potatoes, teriyaki sauce, Cabot shredded cheese, fresh black figs, 1.38 lb flank steak, etc, $48.
🎟 Kings again, groceries, $39.
🎟 Chez Josephine dinner with Candy and Allegra, $60.
🎟 Duane Reade, emergency makeup in Port Authority, $25.