Honestly, I’m not ashamed to say I still know every word to “Thank You for Being a Friend,” the theme song from NBC’s 1985 sitcom “The Golden Girls.” You know how it goes: “Thank you for being a friend Traveled down a road and back again Your heart is true, you’re a pal and a confidant I’m not ashamed to say I hope it always will stay this way My hat is off, won’t you stand up and take a bow“ I’ll spare you the rest, but if you’d like to hear more, there’s a YouTube video out there somewhere of singer/songwriter Andrew Gold performing his classic 1970’s hit song.…
-
-
Aunt Mary
For more times than I care to count in the past six months, my beloved Aunt Mary was knocking at heaven’s door. But she refused to enter because she never lost hope that somehow, some way, she would get better. It wasn’t just wishful thinking. Mary expected to rally. That’s who she was. Her unwavering strength of mind, body and soul was one for the books. She was the embodiment of that rare person who never gives up – no matter what. Even after falling last year, struggling through painful physical therapy and so many unrelated complications, she fought to win. Last Sunday, Aunt Mary entered hospice care near her home…
-
This blows
About a year ago, we bought a cordless leaf blower. A Ryobi 40V Jet Fan model, to be exact. No more extension cords to trip over. No gas. It was the best thing since sliced bread. Until it wasn’t. I loved that Ryobi like a sister from another mister. So much so, that my beloved partner, Rebecca, often felt I spent more quality time with that machine than her, the dog or Mustang Sal. (So not true.) “It’s like she’s become your new BFF,” I’d hear whenever “Ry” and I hung out. OK, people, I named my leaf blower, which I am not proud of. (It rhymes with he, but…
-
Use a straw
Daunting isn’t a word I have ever equated with cleansing my bowels. It is now. After weeks of anxiety, days of pre-prep prep, and eliminating anything red, purple or blue from my diet — God bless the USA! — the “day before your procedure” has arrived at last. And by procedure, I mean the dreaded colonoscopy. Up until this day, I’ve avoided high-fiber foods, stopped eating raw vegetables (or any with seeds), corn, popcorn, nuts and anything else remotely resembling a seed. Sunday’s menu? NO SOLID FOOD. (They love to use ALL CAPS in the instructions. As if “no solid food” is somehow less disheartening.) Clear liquids. As in, black…
-
If this dog could talk
Eat. Play. Love. The three most important dog words in the English language. And maybe these: Car. Cookie. Potty. Walk. If you don’t believe me, trying walking into our house and saying one of them, and see if you aren’t immediately put upon to perform a trick. Every dog has its day, and today is Madison’s: She is 15 years old. The little stinkpot has outlived both of her canine siblings, Uncle Chico and her mother, Annie. Fifteen. Wow. For a 10-pound dog like Maddie, that’s about 76 in human years, according to Mr. Googly. (Please disregard the “one dog year equals seven human years” malarkey. It’s a myth, along…
-
Rainy-day play
“Rain, rain, go away … Come again some other day.” ~ Old nursery rhyme Greetings from South Florida, where it has been raining for 40 days and 40 nights. OK, since Easter. If I were feeling hyperbolic, which I am, I’d say it is rainfall of biblical proportions. I mean, we’re building an ark by the hotel pool in case our plane can’t take off next week. As I recall from working in Miami in the early 1980s, South Florida’s rainy season usually runs from late May through June. It peaks in July until early September. Correct me if I’m wrong, but it’s still April, people. The “cruelest month,” per…
-
Sunrise at High Noon
LAUDERDALE-BY-THE-SEA, Florida – First off, Happy Easter! Rebecca and I started this blessed day with a sunrise service in the courtyard near our hotel. It featured contemporary dancers, a church choir and an uplifting meditation by the pastor from the Community Church here. All in all, a wonderful morning. It’s only 10 a.m., and I feel rejuvenated. And hungry. Sitting around the pool yesterday, I was chatting with our Toronto pals, Paul and Jimmy. They had just arrived on Friday with their lovely wives. We got to talking about my Heart Matters Blog, when Paul (a.k.a., “Magg,” sounds like badge) said someday he would like to write a blog post. He didn’t actually…
-
Passion play
As I’m sitting here in seat 11-B ready to take off, this blog post is practically writing itself in my head. Honestly, I was disappointed that we’d be on a flight to Fort Lauderdale at 30,000 feet on this historic Tuesday as the disgraced, twice-impeached former U.S. president turned himself in at a lower Manhattan courthouse after his indictment by a New York grand jury. But then I realized that in addition to snacks and free drinks in Comfort-Plus, Delta Air Lines offers some “live TV” shows on their in-flight monitors. I found CNN and MSNBC, and plugged in my old analog earbuds. It’s show time, folks. The Tuesday we’ve…
-
Pitch, please
The 2023 Major League Baseball season opened this week, and my beloved Detroit Tigers lost to Tampa Bay, 4-0. One game in, they are in the AL Central Division’s basement, tied with Kansas City. Just 161 more games to go. It’s a little early for panic mode, so I’m going to take a beat and not shame-blog about my Boys of Summer. Yet. Instead, I’ll highlight an unusually fun aspect of baseball, still known as “America’s pastime” in this digital age of tiks, toks and twits. I know, I know. Using “baseball” and “fun” in the same sentence may elicit some eye rolls. “It’s sooo boring,” you say. Or, “I’d…
-
Aloha, cous
In the Hawaiian language, words can sometimes mean more than one thing in English. Aloha means hello and goodbye. It can also mean kindness, love and affection. To the Hawaiian people, they can do things “with aloha,” such as surfing, working or living, because they love it so much. My first cousin, Kerry John, lived her life – most of it in Hawaii – with aloha, even when things were difficult. She passed away February 25, 2023, at 62 years old. Way too young. Way too soon. We were a little over a year apart in age, which makes her death even more unimaginable. I’m having trouble believing she’s gone. As kids,…
