Jehovah’s Witnesses pay me a visit!

Last Saturday as I was getting dressed, my doorbell rang. When I opened the door, there was an extremely pleasant looking woman waving a pamphlet in front of me. I told her I had already voted, and she said that was not what the pamphlet was about. So I took it just to get rid of her and shut the door. But as I did that, I noticed a man in an ill-fitting black suit behind her. So I opened the door again and yelled, “Who are you anyway?” to which she replied they were Jehovah’s Witnesses.

I sat down and began reading. The cover of the pamphlet says, “THE END OF FALSE RELIGION IS NEAR!” On the next page it goes on to say that although religion seems to be at the root of so many problems, it is only false religions that produce bad works. Apparently Jesus indicated that false religion produces bad works just as a “rotten tree produces worthless fruit.” I found that very interesting. My dad was an orchardist and he didn’t need Jesus to tell him anything about rotten trees and worthless fruit. He made a living knowing all about it.

Another point they bring up is that in western lands, church groups are very lax in imposing strict moral practices. They say the Bible states: “Do not be misled. Neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor men kept for unnatural purposes, nor men who lie with men . . . will inherit God’s kingdom.” So who will inherit God’s kingdom? Probably only a handful of people, and I’m guessing they’ll be pretty uninteresting with no senses of humor whatsoever. And where is this kingdom anyway? I don’t think they mentioned that in the pamphlet.

Cindy was visited by the Witnesses several years ago, and since she didn’t want to be rude, they stayed for 2 days before she finally scared them away by doing Christmas decorations. Now she hides when they come.

I won’t let them in for these reasons:

1. It would take away from my viewing time with “Seinfeld” and “Law & Order” reruns if I had to listen to their chatter.

2. I don’t let people into my home who look extremely pleasant and who are wearing ill-fitting black suits. . . or who want to talk about religion.

3. I’M NOT INTERESTED!!

I checked in with Tiffany and Amber for their opinions of all of the above:

Tiffany: Amber, what do you know about Jehovah’s Witnesses?
Amber: Is that like the witness protection program?
Tiffany: I think so.
Amber: Could I go?
Tiffany: Possibly.
Amber: Could I smoke there?
Tiffany: YOU SMOKE?
Amber: Don’t tell my mom. . . please, please . . .

I was getting no place with Tiffany and Amber so just let it drop. I’m hoping the Witnesses don’t make a habit of proselytizing in my neighborhood or I may be forced to put out Halloween and Christmas decorations for the entire year.

“Animal Planet”

Last night I watched “Why I Wore Lipstick to My Mastectomy” which was about a young woman who was diagnosed with breast cancer and how she and her family and friends reacted to it. I thought it was very well done and extremely interesting. It was a true story and written by the woman who had the cancer. She is alive and doing very well right now. The red lipstick gave her a sense of empowerment which is so needed at that time, and it stayed on throughout the entire 6-hour operation. She never said what brand it was . . . probably her own little secret.

This morning I thought I’d watch something a little lighter, so I turned on “Animal Planet” which was about a baby camel named PATSY! I definitely had to watch that, so I settled down. The little baby was so weak at birth that she had to be bottle fed by the people who owned the animal refuge park. They were wonderful with Patsy and all grew very fond of her as she did of them. But they couldn’t let it go on too long as they wanted to reunite her with her mother. So after a few months, they started little visits with the mother who sometimes chased and bit her! I was horrified and felt so sorry for Patsy. Finally, the mother bit her on the leg which required stitches. After she recovered, they tried again to get them together. This time it took and everything was fine.

But the good times were gone as the mother became ill. After blood tests, it was discovered that she had bone cancer and not much time left to live. I wanted to shout, “Give me a break! Will there never be a time when we can watch something that doesn’t have cancer in it? I know this is cancer awareness month, but will it never end?” Patsy’s mother died but the owners found two camels for their park and introduced them to Patsy. They all seemed to get along well, so things didn’t end up all bad.

To answer my own question, I don’t think it will ever end. But we all find ways to cope just as Patsy made friends to fill in for her mother. We all adjust.

Tonight I plan to watch “Desperate Housewives” which should give me a lift if anything will!

My day at the oncologist’s office

I saw my oncologist this week which coincided with “Cancer Awareness Month.” I didn’t plan it that way. It just happens that two years ago I was diagnosed with cancer of the breast in the month of October. It was a shock, but I said “Let’s take it out tomorrow.” It all happened very quickly. I had a lumpectomy and 6 weeks of radiation. Everything went very smoothly, and the room where I waited for the radiation process at the hospital had a huge television set, usually tuned to the “Today” show which was right up my alley. So I don’t have any bad memories at all. It didn’t slow me down and I’m feeling fine now. I don’t like to admit that I had cancer, probably because I hate to even say the word. But it’s always there in the back of my mind.

But to get back to the oncologist’s office. . . it was overflowing with people – young and old – some helping elderly parents and some in walkers. I looked at them all and wondered what sort of cancer they had -- were they recovering, were they newly diagnosed, did they have any hope left and why do so many people have cancer? It is such a horrible disease that sneaks up on you when you’re not looking. But once you’ve had it, you’re always looking. As I waited for my turn – I had a very long wait – I looked for some good reading material to take my mind off the office scene. But the magazines were hopeless! There were no “People,” “Star,” Enquirer” or even “GQ” which would have raised my spirits considerably. Who wants to read about cooking, pretty homes, finances or housekeeping when you’re waiting to see your cancer doctor? NO ONE!!!

When I was finally called in for my blood test, I told them my GP had taken all my blood the week before at my yearly physical, and I had none left. They all laughed at me, but I wasn’t kidding. The first woman tried two different places and there was not a drop. She was getting nervous and asked another woman to do it, but she refused! So they got the woman they called “The Pro.” I asked her if she ever watched Seinfeld and she said she did but felt guilty about it. I asked why and she said because they are all so narcissistic on the show. So I told her that’s the reason I watch it – because they are narcissistic, mean, rude, irreverent, lazy . . . I could go on and on. That show makes me laugh which I like. I told her about the episode where Elaine was banned from all doctor’s offices in Manhattan and even a veterinarian where she went as a last resort for a rash. She was banned because she made too much trouble. I asked the nurse if they would ban me if they couldn’t find any blood, and she said they wouldn’t and just kept staring at my arm. She finally managed to squeeze a little out and sent me on my way. I think they were all relieved when I left.

I finally saw the oncologist who said I was fine. And that was that. I do have a couple of suggestions how things could be made better. Get some good magazines in waiting rooms. My hair stylist, Steve, has many “People” and other magazines of that kind. I think his wife is responsible for that. So I go to my hair appointments early just to read. I don’t do that with doctors’ offices . . . ever. But my best suggestion would be for someone to please find a cure for cancer or a vaccination so no one would have to go through what they do now. In the meantime, I am so very thankful for the many doctors who have helped me and others like me.

My Hope Chest

Years ago my dad bought me a beautiful cedar chest at an auction which became my hope chest. I think he was hoping I would grow up, marry, have children and live happily ever after. Some of that did happen, and I still have that hope chest filled with old memories. My grandson, Harry, visited me several years ago when he was quite young, and I came up with a wonderful idea for something the two of us could do together. I took him into my bedroom and opened up the hope chest and told him we could look at everything I had inside. I thought he’d be thrilled, but I obviously mistook him for my imaginary granddaughter. All Harry wanted to do was go play outside and get all dirty and hot and sweaty. Today I got to thinking about all the stuff I had saved inside the chest, so I took everything out and put a few on display. And then I took the photo I have on this posting.

On top of the chest is a rug made out of string I made when I had some sort of disease like chicken pox that kept me inside for a while. The rug was not easy to make, so I was probably quarantined for about 2 years! On top of the rug sits Pinky, Cindy’s little stuffed dog. She loved Pinky, and when Pinky started wearing out and required medical assistance, I sewed a big, colorful patch over the worn-out place on his back. The patch is holding up very well.

Down below is my old, brown, stuffed dog with no name. Next to the dog is a beautiful, blue Borsalino hat my brother brought me from Italy many years ago. I immediately put it in the hope chest to save where it has been ever since I received it. Next are little pink booties and a cap my mom knit and crocheted for my girls. I didn’t know how to knit, so my mom made many sweaters and hats – all of them saved in the chest. I did try to knit a sweater for my husband once when I was pregnant with a big stomach. I pushed the knitting needles where they were supposed to go with my stomach – this all took a long time – probably about 6 months. When I finished the sweater it was enormous and my husband never wore it, so I did. When I was no longer pregnant, I wasn’t able to knit as my stomach was gone. I didn’t care as I wasn’t into knitting that much anyway.

Next come Nancy and Dorothy, my two best dolls. They are made out of composition whatever that is. I think it’s something really old. Even the antique dealers couldn’t explain it to me. They still have their hair, and their eyes open and shut. I think Teri and Cindy will want them right now – not to play with, but that is a possibility. Nancy is sitting on a white plastic bag filled with a sterling silver place setting. I never knew where the sterling came from . . . was it my mother’s or did it come from my husband’s family? It just sort of appeared, and from that moment on, I kept it in the hope chest, never using it or polishing it. It was my little secret. When I went back to Wash. DC for work, I took it with me in its white bag and brought it home when I was married. Now it just stays in the hope chest along side the Borsalino hat.

Down below is an afghan(not the country or the dog) my mom made for me. I never could understand why anyone would name a country after an afghan which is a throw or coverlet. Anyway, my mom made many afghans for me which are all beautiful and which I do use. Do you suppose my mom had something to do with Afghanistan? Did they name their country after the beautiful afghans she was making? Was she aware of what was going on? I think I’d better stop now and have a glass of wine and then return when I’m thinking more clearly . . . . .

Well, I’m back and refreshed. On top of the afghan – that’s the last time I’ll mention it – is my wedding headpiece. My dress is in a box and not on display. I was the fourth generation of women to wear the dress, and I was the biggest one of all. I weighed 112 pounds and the dress had to be let out so I could fit in it. The dress is beautiful with little seed pearls all over it. I was working in another city before my wedding, and the dress needed some pearls sewed back on. My mom took the dress out to the back yard to sew on the pearls. She sat on the lawn with the dress covering her lap, needle and thread in one hand and a pistol in the other! We had a little birdhouse nailed to the barn wall for swallows, but bigger sparrows kept trying to chase the little swallows away. So my mom sat there, sewing part of the time and shooting at sparrows the rest of the time. No one took a photo because there was the possibility of being shot! But what a great picture that would have been!

Next to the headpiece is my little teddy bear. He had all the fur rubbed of his left arm as that is the arm I used to carry him. Why didn’t anyone tell me to switch arms? Was no one watching me and taking care of me? Was it just me and my teddy bear with the skinny arm? Next is a fur muff. This muff was made from one of our rabbits named Alexander, a big buck. We raised rabbits and ate them, just as we did with our chickens. We never made anything out of chicken feathers though. But Alexander served a dual purpose – food and fur muff. The muff is beautiful and keeps your hands really warm. I didn’t use it much – I just saved it with the other things. Maybe I should use it this winter when I go out. I wonder if people would throw rotten tomatoes at me and form a PETA group to stalk me. I’ll have to give that some thought.

The last object in the display is a little dress I made for the girls. I made many dresses, but for some reason this was in the hope chest. So now I will put everything back in the chest, and I won’t have to deal with the sterling silver sitting out in the open. For some reason, it makes me nervous.

Girls Night Out


My mom and her friends enjoyed getting all dressed up, going out and having fun. I don’t know what their fun things were . . . possibly gossiping at the local coffee shop, playing canasta or just hanging out together. From the looks of it, they were having a great time. This time they were hoping Helen wouldn’t show up for many reasons, one of which was the fact that she always wore such low-cut dresses and no panties. They thought she was a real slut . . . these days she’d be considered a fox and be extremely popular! But they never let little things like that stop them from having a good time. And Helen usually showed up.

When I was their age, my friends and I also liked having fun. We’d put on our tight jeans and T-shirts and be good to go. We didn’t go to the coffee shop to gossip – we gossiped all the time. And we didn’t get together to play canasta, but we probably should have. We skipped all those and got right to the point. We went to bars where we met men – many men – all available and usually married. We thought we were having fun, but I think my mom and her friends had a much better time.

HOW WE BECAME HUMAN
“Time” magazine, October 9, 2006

“How We Became Human” was on the cover of this magazine recently. On the cover it goes on to say, “Chimps and humans share almost 99% of their DNA. New discoveries reveal how we can be so alike – and yet so different.” This really caught my interest because I don’t believe some of us in this country have actually become human. I mean, just look at the havoc and suffering we have inflicted on different parts of the world. That has nothing to do with humanity. The article talked about genomes, so I went to the internet, as usual, and found out this about genomes. It says the genome of an organism is its entire hereditary information and is encoded in the DNA. I quit reading after that as it was giving me a headache. Too much information for my little mind.

I went back to the magazine article that stated we are very closely related to the great apes, especially the Chimps, and how they resemble us. It isn’t just the looks, it’s also that fact they share many human-like behaviors and also teach skills to their offspring. They even prey on other animals and sometimes murder each other. Wow! I think we all know someone like that, don’t we? Just imagine a conversation between two girlfriends:

Tiffany: “I had sex with a guy last night and he was a real gorilla and really hot!”
Amber: “YOU WHAT????”
Tiffany: “Come on, Amber – you know what I mean.”

But do we really know what Tiffany means? The article goes on to say that Chimps and humans first split but later interbred from time to time. And then there are the Neanderthals who walked upright and were more like humans. This article was beginning to REALLY give me a headache until I came to the picture of our family tree which saved the day as far as I’m concerned. It shows a big tree with five branches. On the first branch is a man in a business suit reading what I suppose is “The Wall Street Journal.” On the branch above is a Chimp who appears to be playing with himself – no big surprise there – a favorite pastime for many. Then comes the Bonobos, a pygmy chimp who may be picking his teeth or possibly his nose. Then comes the Gorilla who looks like he’s sucking on a popsicle. Then the Orangutan who appears to be very bored and is raising his hand. He either wants to get down and take a nap or go to the bathroom. And standing upright below the human is the Neanderthal with his back to us, wearing only something wrapped around his waist and looking up at all his relatives in the tree. He has long hair and is holding a big stick. I think he’s wondering, “What in the hell are my relatives doing up in that tree?”

It all boils down to the fact that you could put a business suit on all of them and hand each one “The Wall Street Journal,” and it would be difficult to tell them apart. . . and that includes the human.

Teri's happy on her horsey!

Teri loved her little rocking horse. She especially liked riding it wearing only a T-shirt. Doesn’t she look sweet in this picture as she rocks back and forth? She spent many happy hours on it until she went to college and moved away from the family compound. It was then that I finally got my horsey back. Teri said she didn’t need it anymore . . . like I believe that!

Ugly Brides


When Teri and Cindy were young, we had an Ugly Bride box where we kept pictures of ugly brides we cut out of the newspaper. The box was my silverware chest which I kept on top of the refrigerator. I never used that silverware as it was my special, silver-plated, May Queen, good set from the wedding. I always saved my best things for the proper times that usually never presented themselves. But the ugly brides were safe in it.

These days there are no ugly brides. Every bride in the paper is beautiful, slim, with good parents who have good careers. When did this happen? Are people just more beautiful now or is it the use of cosmetics, plastic surgery, botox and Jenny Craig? It was so much more fun in the old days. The girls and I would scour the paper every week for ugly ones and we usually came up with some. Our favorite was one who was quite overweight and was going to honeymoon in The Dalles. Who would honeymoon in The Dalles? We had so much fun with all this, but I don’t know how many people knew about it as I’m sure they would have thought us very demented and strange. We were, but we were enjoying it. Every so often I’d drag the silverware chest down from the fridge and we’d go through it, always looking for the one who honeymooned in The Dalles. I think it’s a shame there are no more ugly brides, because I could start a new box and we girls could enjoy it when we get together. But the good times can’t last forever.

Teri and Cindy still ask me where the brides are and I have no idea. I have looked everywhere –- even in a tiny drawer in my desk that holds many strange things! I just went through it and found my business card from when I ran The Last Wound-Up, a wind-up toy store. I found two little photos of wash hanging out on a line – I had a big thing for wash on clotheslines. There was a pin that says, “How About Them HOGS!!” And there was a little business card that says, “Have a nice day…Asshole.” There was also a little photo of me that I used when I applied for government work in Wash. DC. All those articles are very important, so back in the tiny little drawer they went. When Cindy was married, I gave her the silverware with the chest, and I must have lost the brides. I certainly wasn’t thinking straight when I did that! Cindy used the silverware and washed it in the dishwasher which turned it all white and funny looking. She also fed her dog out of a sterling silver bowl she received as a wedding present. Cindy’s homemaking skills have improved considerably since those days, and now her dog eats out of a regular dog dish or cleans up Cindy’s plate of leftovers.

When I was a little girl, my family used to cut out the Rose Festival pictures of all the princesses every year. They were always so very pretty, and my dad always picked a blonde girl to win. We had a lot of fun doing that – kind of like the Ugly Bride thing the girls and I did later. We girls did cut out pictures of the Rose Festival princesses years ago, and I always enjoyed trying to pick the queen. Now I could do the same these days with pictures of the Rose Festival princesses . . . . oh, I forget . . . they are now ambassadors . . . . but I think I’d better just leave that one alone.

Janice, Janice, Janice . . . .

The other day, Teri sent me an e-mail of the YouTube video “Janice, Janice, Janice.” I watched it and was immediately addicted to it! It shows Janice with long blond hair sitting on a roller coaster with a friend. The friend is shorter and sort of squatty or chunky – something like that. So as the roller coaster starts, Janice tells her friend to keep her feet on the rail and her head back. As it begins moving fast, the friend begins screaming, and Janice starts laughing maniacally, continuing it throughout the entire ride. The friend screams, “Help me! Stop it! I’m falling! I’m stuck! This hurts!” She shrieks these words over and over again during the entire video and Janice keeps laughing, her blond hair flying in the wind while her friend sinks lower and lower in her seat until the safety straps are right up to her chin. The ride ends suddenly and that’s all there is. Janice may have been a real bitch who didn’t care what happened to her friend, or maybe she just didn’t like short, squatty people. Whatever her reason, I have to watch Janice every day for my morning fix. If that makes me a disturbed person, so be it.


Buying a Picture Frame . . . . . .

Yesterday I went to the local picture frame shop because I needed two frames for photos for Cindy and me. I walked in and there was no one there. I started around the counter to see if the proprietor had been murdered and was lying there in a pool of blood. A young man then came through the door, and I told him I was relieved that he was still alive and that I must have been watching too much “Law and Order.” He knew what I was talking about because he mentioned Lennie Briscoe. I told him I was looking for two frames, and he found one that made the photos look very good, but they were a little too expensive since I had to buy two. So he said he’d check the computer to see if they had been marked down. When he came back, he said I could have them both for the price of one! I was so surprised that I blurted out, “Do I look poor? I live in a condo. But I really am poor.” As I was babbling away, he said he was trying to get rid of them anyway. So I bought them and thanked him effusively. I told Cindy later of my outburst in the store and that probably no one else would have said those things. She immediately said, “I would.” And I knew she would.

I think I’ve left my mark on my daughters much to my delight and sometimes to their consternation.

Bonnie and Clyde

During that time in my life when I seemed to be on a never-ending search for the perfect pets, the girls and I just happened to go to a feed and seed store. I realize people don’t “just happen” to go to feed stores, but that’s where we ended up. And there we found some tiny, baby ducks and geese. Now who could resist something like that . . . all fluffy and cute and wanting a nice home and a nice family. I sure couldn’t resist, and we certainly qualified, so I bought a baby duck and a baby goose and brought them home, installing them in a wire pen which I put on the hutch in our living room. Bonnie was the duck and Clyde was the goose. I didn’t think they were old enough yet to know how to swim, so I didn’t let them out in the backyard where we had 3 fishponds waiting for them. They seemed to do just fine in the house, but they were pooping all over our floor. They pooped right through the wire of their cage, so I had to put foil all around the pen. As they grew, I would add more foil . . . higher and higher. One day my parents came to visit, and my dad was horrified. He said they knew how to swim and always had, so he scooped them up and took them out to the fishpond. Bonnie and Clyde were extremely happy out there, and I was happy to get rid of the messy pen in my living room.

Bonnie and Clyde thrived in our backyard and grew bigger and bigger. Clyde became quite confrontational, chasing the girls around the yard and pecking at their legs. My dad was sitting on the deck furniture one time, and Clyde rushed up to him and began pecking at his pants. We could all put up with a little bit of that as they were having such a good time in the yard and swimming in the fishponds. But one day as I was standing in the middle of the big pond – I can’t remember why I was doing that but that’s beside the point – I watched Bonnie and Clyde who were there with me. I suddenly realized they were eating my fish! I thought they were just being nice and keeping me company. I had been hoping to raise baby fish to sell to stores, but the big fish were eating the babies as soon as they were born, and now Bonnie and Clyde were making things worse. So we decided they had to go. It wasn’t just that they were eating the fish – they were making an awful mess of our back yard. So we took them to a beautiful lake by a golf course in our area that had many ducks and geese already. This way Bonnie and Clyde would be able to run free with their peers. They looked happy as we left although I’m not sure how that’s supposed to look with ducks and geese. We went back to visit several times and could always find them. However, after Thanksgiving, we couldn’t find Clyde anymore. Now I don’t think anything bad happened, but I’ve always wondered about the timing of his disappearance. I hope they are both happy wherever they are.

So there I was, giving Lucy, my Old English Sheepdog, a bath before her big party. I had my hair in rollers, also in anticipation of Lucy’s party. This was during the time when my girls were young and in school, and most of the women who lived on my cul-de-sac were like me - - no job outside the home and no kids at home during the day. We were sort of like the Desperate Housewives who lived on Wisteria Lane only I don’t think we were quite as desperate as they were. . . but then I’m speaking only for myself.

Our neighborhood had many parties, some of which included husbands - - 4th of July, Christmas, New Year’s Eve, Groundhog’s Day and so on. But we women had our own little get-togethers in the afternoons where we would drink wine and gossip. There were so many things to gossip about such as when Cathy found out she was pregnant and was furious, or when Susie found out she was pregnant and was delighted, or when Susie found out it wasn’t her husband who had made her pregnant but the one time she had slipped up with her husband’s brother when he visited from Oklahoma, or when Sally was caught shoplifting a porn movie in the local video store. As you can see, there was a never-ending supply of gossip material to keep our little parties going forever. And if we had a slack time, I could always give Lucy another bath and make her all pretty. That would be a good reason to raise another glass of wine!

This all ended for me when I got a job, a divorce and moved into an apartment. I still miss our Wisteria Lane – I mean our cul-de-sac – and doubt I will ever experience a time like that again.

Cindy and Charlie

I recently took a trip on Amtrak to visit Cindy. Cindy has a new condo and has been busy decorating it and learning the ropes of being a homeowner on her own. I love what she has done with it and especially enjoyed just spending time with her. We weren’t actually alone – she has a big Rhodesian Ridgeback dog that takes up quite a bit of space. Charlie was happy to see me and tried to hump my leg. I figured he thought I was special until Cindy told me he does that to other people . . . probably everyone! Now I could say, “Just like a guy” . . . but I won’t. Cindy takes him out frequently for his bathroom breaks. She talks to him as do I with animals. So Charlie and she go down the street, talking all the time and looking for a doggie bathroom area. They come to a place with ivy and low bushes that looks pretty good, and Cindy says “Looks like a toilet, smells like a toilet . . . let’s make it a toilet!” Charlie backs into it, does his thing and away they go.

Cindy made a delicious leg of lamb and baked potatoes one night for us. Charlie sat a few feet away from the table and drooled the entire time. I knew he drooled when there was food, but this was drool like I’ve never before seen! It’s very hard to clean it up and very slippery if you step in it. I could just imagine myself slipping on some, flying through the air and breaking bones which would probably require me to stay there until I recovered. That would mean I’d be looking for drool constantly. So we spent time, down on our hands and knees, washing the floor and looking for more drool spots.

Charlie usually sleeps on Cindy’s bed, but while I was there, I took Charlie’s place. He would look at us, hoping I would disappear, but he’d eventually wander out to a big chair in the living room. Then we could shut the door so he couldn’t come back in later on. The last night I forgot to close the door, and during the night he jumped up and landed on my feet. I couldn’t move and couldn’t get him to move, so I went out to the kitchen and put some of the leg of lamb in his pan, rattling it around. He came running out and I ran back to the bedroom and shut the door. He spent the night in the chair.

Coming home on Amtrak wasn’t all that great. At one point, we were stopped for what seemed like forever. We were told other trains had to pass by, or the bridge over the river was up, or there were trains backed up in front of us, or the bridge was down and then right away back up again. This seemed to go on and on with the same excuses. All the passengers were on cell phones, telling their friends they’d be late. And then calling again . . . and again. I heard one man on his cell shouting “Are you hearing me now . . . are you hearing me now . . . we’re breaking up.” I wanted to launch into “Breaking Up Is Hard To Do” but I didn’t know all the words and my voice is lousy. I have no cell phone and had no friends eagerly awaiting my arrival. I almost felt like a loser . . . but not quite. Why would I inflict that sort of torture on friends, standing around a train station for who knows how long. My friends were all at home enjoying Seinfeld . . . oh, I forget . . . I have no friends who watch Seinfeld. But I did have someone at the station glad to see me – the cab driver! I had a delightful ride home but think I tipped him too much as I had no change and he said he had no change. I find that hard to believe, but then I find many things hard to believe these days.