Bed head?
I can't think of anything better
than spending a lazy day in bed.
Today I plan on doing absolutely nothing.
Here's hoping you can sleep in.
Sunday, January 26, 2014
Saturday, January 25, 2014
What weekend?!
I relish the idea of a quiet weekend
spent alone at home. However sadly
that's just a dream. The older I get,
the more I forget. Therefore I must
now jot down voluminous lists! By
the time Friday evening rolls around,
we spend it chatting and planning
ways to accomplish all that we have
to do on Saturday. How did relaxing
become so much work?!
Rather than loll around the house on
a Saturday morning, one has to travel
hither and yon to complete "to do's".
Everybody else seems to be doing the
same thing. The subway is packed with
people discussing what they have to
accomplish while toting flotsam and
jetsam related to said tasks. I wonder
if anything really gets accomplished or
is it simply talked and talked about?!
My compilation of consumption means
hitting all of the shops one can't get to
during the week. Dragging oneself far
downtown to go to the butcher might
seem odd, however the Oso Bucco one
serves the following week is well worth
the effort. In a city full of options, why
shop from a meager mix of fromage at
Whole Foods versus the multitude of
mold at Murrays? Move your cheese!
Honey don't
In the old days all of this tensioninvariably led to a rather intense
"chat" with my beloved. While
he never raised a hand, I often
talked to said hand. After a week
of managing a team, I tend to be
a bit bossy. Therefore Frank's oft
reply of "I don't work for you".
Semantics aside, it would be so
easy if he did as he was told!
Layering all of this effort on
top of a busy social schedule
can easily push one over the
edge. While there may be no
greater accomplishment than
checking off one's list, come
Saturday evening all I want to
do is check out! As soon as I
shift into weekend mode, we
recall that we're scheduled to
sup with someone, somewhere.
And suddenly you realize that
your weekend is almost over!
Friday, January 24, 2014
Love for sale...
I pride myself on knowing the
finer things in life. That said,
there's nothing I love more than
a bargain. Don't get me wrong,
I'm not your average skin flint.
The truth is I get a thrill out of
knowing more than most others.
Knowledge is power and there's
no place to leverage your smarts
than on ebay! Get more for less!
As you know, one of my favorite
haunts is Bergdorf Goodman's
seventh floor. Specifically, their
antique china room. For a china
freak like me, it's as addictive as
a crack house. Every inch fuels
my compulsion for porcelain.
While I adore scoping out this
treasure trove, I find most of
the prices obscenely high. That
means that I almost NEVER buy
anything. After I've seen an item
I must have, I rush home to ebay!
Frank says I've never met a china
pattern I don't like! Years ago I
came upon a huge pile of Adams
Chinese Bird on a center table at
BG. Love at first sight, I started to
amass my own sizable collection
via ebay. As the deliveries mounted,
so did Frank's ire. Finally he called
from Montana to tell me that I had
a problem and must see somebody.
Oddly he dialed as I was trolling
the aisles at BG. He knew I had
just purchased a Chinese Bird
covered vegetable dish on ebay
for $35. Now on a shelf sat the
exact same dish. The difference
was their tag at $795.00! OMG!
Calmly I shared my news and then
suggested that stacking plates was
better than infidelity, gambling, or
other addictions. We all need thrills
and grabbing a dish you love for
Nada qualifies. It works both ways.
My friend frequents thrift shops on
the day that estate sale dregs are
dropped off. She bags bargains and
then sells them on ebay for over ten
times more. Still well below what
the hoi polloi pays on the plaza.
EVERYBODY WINS!
There is a cycle to life and finding a deal
is as thrilling as running with the bulls.
In the process something nobody loved
benefits all. A family cleans out Gram's
attic. Some charity gets some cash. My
friend makes a tidy profit. And I get a
dish I want for less. Hmm... the only
loser seems to be Bergdorf Goodman.
And yet, I'm sure they're doing just fine.
All the more reason I need more dishes!
Thursday, January 23, 2014
YOU ANIMAL!
In our world of PETA and animal rights,
it's nothing if not risky to don any sort of
fur in public. Gone are the times when one
could trounce about town dragging a sable
in their wake. Nowadays in most of America
if it's fur it's faux... or else. However I just
discovered that all is not lost. When I recently
checked my coat at the Colony Club, the
closet was absolutely bursting with remnants
of former animal kingdom denizens. Proof
that even in todays dog eat dog world, while
the masses may prefer polyester, the upper
east side is 100% committed to posh pelts!
I miss the days when exotica was worn
around our shoulders or atop one's head.
The drama of an ocelot coat or fabulous
feathers has become extinct. Rather than
worry about one's impact upon entering
a room, one must now fret about how
the critter you're wearing left this world.
Has anybody met an actual alligator they
liked? When did it become preferable to
wrestle with one's conscience rather than
with a live one at Gatorland in Orlando?
Conscience be damned, wear something
dead the next time you lunch at 21!
I must confess there is little I like more
than fur (especially on Gary Cooper).
Whether it be a fabulous fur coat on a
beautiful woman or a fuzzy glove lining,
nothing is as decadent. In Montana one
is often surrounded by stuffed vestiges
of kills past. Therefore I feel comfortable
and unashamed about having a pelt or
two around the house. One of my most
prized possessions is a zebra skin that
we procured in South Africa. Not only
does it conjure up safari memories, it
looks spectacular on the living room floor!
I seems that others also mourn
the loss of furry fashion. Hence
their compulsion to don as many
animal prints as possible! Daily
I see lovely ladies who reject the
mantra of "less is more". Why
visit the zoo when one can see
cheetah, ocelot, leopard, tiger,
zebra, and pony on the subway?
IT'S A JUNGLE OUT THERE!
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
Pressing engagement
I don't know about you but I truly
adore anything perfectly pressed.
And the more starch, the better!
From sheets to table linens to shirts,
there is little more satisfying than
the sight of something properly
ironed. I cannot tell you why it
gives me such a thrill except that
crisp, smooth linens subtly scream
elegance, restraint, and that one has
had a proper rearing. As a survivor
of Dacron and double knits, I can
only find comfort in 100% cotton!
As a young executive one wore
a suit, shirt, and tie daily. If
you wanted to be held in high
esteem, you sent your shirts out.
Initially I had them folded and
boxed. Feeling that the crisply
ironed folds communicated that
my shirts had been washed and
ironed professionally. Later on
I opted to not look like a stuffed
shirt and switched to hanger
hung. Somehow smooth versus
creased just felt less uptight.
I'll never forget our laundry man,
Mr. Hong. Located in a building
over one hundred years old, he
and his equipment seemed to be
about the same vintage. While
nobody pressed a shirt better,
what I appreciated most about
Mr. Hong was his gently kind
manner. Suddenly a sign was
hung in the window announcing
Mr. Hong's death. When I went
to pick up my final shirts, I cried.
You see... he was my friend.
When it comes to my table linens,
I'm a horrific snob. Nobody seems
to do them as well as me. Over the
years we've sent them out to local
ladies but the starch and folds are
never quite right. Part of me wants
to purchase a Mangle Iron for the
Passion Pit. You know, those huge
machines that perfectly press your
sheets and tablecloths? How could
there be a more decadent and yet
so practical indulgence? Imagine,
everything smooth as glass!
In the meanwhile I'll have to make
do with ironing them myself. Not
a burden, I actually find the task
quite therapeutic and soothing.
Plus nothing could be as satisfying
as a perfectly pressed linen napkin!
My passion for pressing is so innate
that it must be in my DNA. One of
my daughter "E's" most favorite
childhood memories is of her Dad
ironing, watching old movies, and
setting the table for a dinner party.
And I didn't know I was gay...
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
Of mice and men
The other evening I rushed onto the
M train (subway) just as the doors
were closing. As I got my bearings,
I realized that my fellow passengers
were in a frenzy. All because a small
rat was in the car riding along with all
of us. Terrified, the poor rat ran from
one end of the car to the other as we
humans scrambled and screamed out
of it's way. We sat with our legs raised
as we waited to reach the next stop!
Upon arrival we ran out as others ran
in to grab a seat on the Rat Express!
It's funny how that even the thought
of a rodent can throw most of us into
a frenzy. Our little furry friends aren't
all that evil. Like us they're trying to
survive this rat race we call life. For
whatever reason we innately loathe
rodents and when one is personally
confronted with their reality most
of us recoil and then do everything
possible to eradicate their existence.
If you've ever had a mouse in the
house, you know that's not as easy
as one might assume. EEEEEEEK!
In my younger and more vulnerable years
I decided to uproot my family and move to
Illinois. In those years of 18% mortgages,
Lincoln's state was a candy land of bargains
for East Coasters like us. We purchased a
quite large and charming Victorian abode
and furnished it beautifully. Then one fine
morning we came across some small black
"seeds" in a kitchen drawer. Hmmm...
Quickly we learned that our discovery
were actually mouse droppings. Now
fully aware of a potential problem, we
searched and found black bits of terror
throughout our beautiful home. Then
one afternoon as we sat in our thirty
foot long living room, we watched a
mouse scurry across the new carpet.
That's when we realized that our new
home was completely infested with
furry friends. They say that if you see
one, there are at least ten. Well, in
our case there were a few more...
We called in Orkin and quickly they
set poison and traps throughout the
house. It's odd what one gets used
to. Every dawn I would patrol the
battle field and swat poisoned mice
to death with a broom. Plus collect
traps full of the those who did not
nibble of the kibble. Each weekend
I crammed steel wool into crevices
and spread mothballs out in crawl
spaces. We did everything possible
to rid our home of mice and won!
Then quickly, the victors MOVED!
You see, in the eyes of my ex wife
our home was sullied. To most of
us anything that a rodent has even
sniffed is no longer palatable. Just
the thought of their being adjacent
can push most of us over the edge.
That experience taught me to be
vigilant of vermin. A skill set that
has since helped me in all aspects
of my life including at the office.
You see, not all vermin are furry.
However most will take the bait.
You simply need to set out the trap.
Unlike the average house mouse, human
vermin are fully aware that their actions
impact others. I've watched first hand as
one individual and his minions quickly
infested a company and tainted it beyond
repair. The problem was that the rest of
us didn't fight the infestation. Rather we
welcomed them with open and naif arms.
Initially this breed attempts to charm and
woo it's prey. Then slowly, they nibble
away at all aspects of one's weaknesses
in order to become the superior species.
The only way to defeat them is to lead.
Rats feed off others as their legions grow.
Therefore one must find and eradicate
whatever nourishes and fuels their power.
Rather than be innocent prey, we must be
proactive protectors of whatever we value.
Why would anybody allow vermin to take
over? Instead we must act with conviction.
That sort of bravery doesn't make you a
super hero, but it does prove that one is
committed to doing the right thing. And
that is what separates mice... from men.
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