964. Good bye life as I know it.

My sister Marcia and I went to Montauk for 2 nights.

I had to check my house after a summer of renting it to possibly a thousand, disguised as 6 twenty-somethings and Marcia came with me.

We love to get away together because we only do what we want to do. There is not one other person or pet that has any say in whether we eat in a fancy restaurant or look in an earring store for hours on end.

It’s just us.

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Here we are at the beach enjoying ourselves. Me innocently ignorant of what was waiting for me when I got home.

I leave Ray in the best of care, my Superintendant’s family. His wife oversees everything and their son and his girlfriend stay in my apartment waiting on Ray hand and foot.

When I got home they told me Ray was so sad the whole time. He slept in my bathroom even though they kept picking him up and bringing them in their bed.

How does this effect me? Easy answer, I am never leaving him alone again. This will be my life from now on.

Also on the few times I go to the bathroom alone there will be someone waiting outside the door suggesting that I help him flip his toy around.IMG_3833

Now who’s gonna rescue me?

963. Two Nights of Terror

Ray hates dogs.

In spite of this he doesn’t mind going up to Connecticut to visit Stephanie and Terry.

“Doesn’t mind” is a bit of a stretch. He loves them but he’s learned to endure their brood.

We just came back from a 2 night visit.

They have two huge dogs and two medium dogs.

horses

He stays as far away from them as he can.

He can take or leave their small dogs but he thinks they’re schmucks.

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What they consider fun is a mystery to him.

ball

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Even the 3 sneaky dogs they have are acceptable as long as they keep their distance.

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Why they had to bring a monster into the mix is a mystery that can never be explained.

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Ray was absolutely terrorized by this bitch (and I don’t mean it in the female dog sense either)

She simply wouldn’t leave him alone. She stalked him wherever he went.

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Ray sought a bit of solitude on his bed but that wasn’t good enough for her.

hiding rat

She snapped at him and it took me a good half hour to find him after that.

hiding in bathroom

She even taunted him by sucking up to his cousin Stephanie.

stealing steph

And to make matters worse she was all over his beloved Terry who, incidentally, is the only person in the house who doesn’t refer to him as “not all there”.

stealing terry

You know who you are, Stephanie.

I don’t know when we’ll be able to go up there again. I know it won’t be until someone throws her out of the country.

All the way home in the car he was mumbling “where’s trump when we need him?”

 

962. I may actually be a loser

I can’t keep blaming my not writing on trump although it’s hard to make light of things when that nutcase is potus.

I think I’m slow in being creative because now that I’m back on my crazy pills I have different interests.

For example today I clicked on “teenager filmed punching teacher in the head multiple times”. I think it was the ‘multiple times’ that attracted me to this.

In my day once would have been enough but these kids do everything in grander style. I guess it’s the internet.

I also liked “in the head”. I don’t know why that struck me funny but even I know that that isn’t fodder for the general public.

So how can I keep writing a blog if I’m the only one that thinks it’s funny?

961. Someone I don’t know made me cry yesterday

It was a comment sent by someone named Beth.

It made me so sad that I erased it so I can’t show it to you but the gist of it was that my not getting over the end of my marriage after this amount of time makes me “pathetic”.

Under normal conditions I might not have reacted this way but my recent trading of my crazy pills for Lipitor has made me particularly weepy.

Now in the light of day, I’m feeling a little less vulnerable so I’ll answer Beth, or beth, now.

Dear beth;

I am a writer.

I have a signed paper from dave saying that I can say anything I want about him in my writings.

I try to be a funny writer and sometimes I over state things to enhance my writing. The use of the word “sometimes” suggests that at other times I tell the absolute truth.

For example now;

Who the fuck are you to determine when someone else should get over anything you mean spirited, miserable cunt.

Wishing you the happiest of days.

Love and kisses,

Mattie Joan Matthews

 

 

960 MY brushes with celebrity

If you’re reading this you’ve probably just finished Julie’s hilarious book about her and others mostly positive contacts with celebrity.

Julie is warm, charming and truly comfortable in her skin. Not so I. Especially with famous people.

Thanks to my ex husband, a successful musician, may he drop dead where he stands, I’ve had quite a few brushes with “greatness” and most of them didn’t end well.

I can’t blame it all on him though.

I still feel the shame of disappointing my father when I was about 8. He was chatting with my Aunt Ray and Uncle Louie’s neighbor, Ted Brown of “Ted Brown and his Crazy Redhead” fame (and fame it was).

Ted asked me if I wanted him to mention my name on the radio. My response was to mumble “I don’t know” and hide behind my father.

The whole meeting was so traumatic to me that when we walked away and my father said in an annoyed tone “Why didn’t you say you wanted him to say your name on the radio?” I had no recollection of the radio star even asking.

I believe I wrote about accompanying Julie to her appearance on “The Tonight Show”. Jimmy Fallon peeked in the green room to welcome Julie and made the fatal mistake of looking at me when he was addressing the room.

The look of horror on my face made him say “You don’t want me to talk to  you, ?” I just shook my head no. He said okay and moved his eyes elsewhere.

This was only a minor of my missteps.

Probably one of the worst was when dave, may he drop dead where he stands (did I already wish that? I hope I don’t use up all my wishes on the same thing. That would be a tragedy. I’m still hoping to win the lottery and not let my hair get any thinner)

As I was saying, dave was recording and Grover Washington Jr was on the date. He struck up a conversation with me and I held it together fairly well when he mentioned that he recognized Jimmy Madison’s drumming.

“You can tell one drummer from another? Like a vocalist?” Sorry Allan Schwartzberg and Steve Gadd.

“Sure I can”.

Pleased with myself that I was keeping the convo going I said. “I can’t tell any musicians just from hearing them playing.”

Please Jesus why didn’t I leave it at that? But I was getting cocky.

“Well maybe Dave Sanborn”.

Only when I saw Grover’s eyes glaze over did I realize that they both played the same thing, the saxophone .

Yep not only did I not know what Grover played I wouldn’t have been able to pick out Sanborn’s instrument in a field of pianos.

And how can I not mention when I was leaving the recording studio when Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel were overdubbing mistakes on “My Little Town”.

I waved good bye and barged out of what I thought was the exit but was in fact the studio itself so they had to start over.

Trying to make myself one of the guys when dave, may he…. well you know, was recording Billy Joel I asked Billy if it drove him crazy to hear a stranger on the street humming or singing one of his songs.

I thought about what I would say for a good 40 minutes before I actually spoke.

“Why would it drive me crazy?”

Silence for what I believe was a week or two.

Of course there are occasional diamonds in my pails of conversational shit like when I asked Billy what “Vienna Waits For You ” means.

He said he was so  impressed with the way old people were treated when he went to Vienna that he wished it could be that way everywhere.

It isn’t just famous people I have trouble talking to. I have absolute no ability for small talk. I hate parties and meeting new people.

When I speak to strangers I either babble something inane or way too personal or say something that I think is funny and leaves the other person stymied.

I really could go on and on but I won’t.

I will just protect me and the world from moments of discomfort by keeping my contacts to Twitter, Facebook and this blog.

I can be a real scream. Just not in person.

 

 

 

 

959. Book Review and other stuff you should know.

I read a very early version of Julie’s book “The Stars In Our Eyes” since I was asked to contribute my knowledge of Reality TV.

NOTE: I am the “go to” person in my family when anyone needs info on dumb TV shows, books or movies.

I was making my morning sissy today and I decided to pick up the book for a fresh read.

I swear on my dog’s life. If you start this book you won’t be able to put it down.

Sure it’s about celebrity but it’s more than that. It’s Julie’s hysterically funny and clever voice.

By the time I got to page 5 I knew I had to keep myself from calling Julie several times and telling her how I loved a turn of phrase or thought she put down.

My morning sissy is at 4:15 a.m. so my call wouldn’t have been welcome.

The other night I gave a party for the release of Julie’s book.

I wanted Julie to be proud so I prepared for it for months.

I had my apartment painted for the first time in 20 years.

I put lights out on my terrace

terrace

I got plenty of booze and eats.

I trained my dog to host which was no easy feat since he has no qualms about biting anyone who either touches his stuff or looks shifty. And as you can see he’s absolutely exhausted from the effort.

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I even made sure that there was a photographer to memorialize the event. Unfortunately the only thing she chose to memorialize was herself in different lights. This is a picture she just had to have her mother take on Miss Liz’s terrace.

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Since I knew how tired Julie would be from her performance with TV’s Steve O’Donnell at Barnes & Noble I even took it upon myself to chat up her guests when they arrived

“I know you’re wondering what kind of special woman would put out an excellent spread like this for people she doesn’t know. Let me tell you a little about her.

She was born in 1944 in a middle (to upper class) family….”

I know that many of them were intrigued with my story since when they had to excuse themselves to say hello to someone it was always someone very important and they promised to catch up with me later.

Luckily I photocopied everyone’s license, you know because liquor was being served, so I can drop in on them in their homes.

They are in for a treat. 1955 was a very “happ’nin’ year for me.

But this isn’t about me. It’s about my sweet niece Julie Klam who went with me to the dentist when I needed a root canal and made me leave when she noted that the dentist had a rotary phone.

Here’s to you my girl.

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958. This is the happiest day of my life

Now this is in spite of the fact that I have to call some tax guy in Suffolk County and tell him that I gave him some wrong information about renting my Montauk house.

Will I go to jail? Who knows. I know the woman from “Dance Moms” didn’t think she’d go to jail and she’s chowing down on Spam and pussy as we speak.

But I digress.

Before I tell you the details of my happiness I want to introduce you to the subject. It’s David Rosenfelt.

I want you to watch the video he put on line when one of his books was printed.

I not only love this guy but I love his books.

I am on some kind of list for him to send me an email whenever he has a new book.

I got one today.

I wrote back. “I already ordered it.”

AND HE WROTE BACK

“So I was about to write you a perfunctory thank you when I noticed the name of your website. I went there and spent 15 minutes reading your funny and terrific writing. The bad news, of course, is that I am now 15 minutes behind on my perfunctory thank you’s.

David”
…… (that’s me fainting)
I do have to pull myself together though because, speaking of books, tomorrow is the party I’m giving for my little niece Julie Klam for her book ” THE STARS IN OUR EYES”.
And I must mention my sweet nephew Matthew Klam’s new book “WHO IS RICH?”
I will have a million friends and strangers in my apartment going through my underwear drawer and trying on my wigs.
That is unless I”m in the slammer.

 

957. Ya think ya know someone

I’m having my apartment painted. Ya know for Julie’s book party. I want her to be proud of me.

The guest room/my office used to be where dave wrote his music. I almost never went in there because he kept the heat up to a million.

So as I was saying I am having my apartment painted. My super and his helpers  were up here yesterday pulling furniture away from the wall, taking down paintings etc.

On the desk was a big printer that doesn’t work but it was too heavy for me to lift. I asked them to take it away and dump it. I was throwing lots of things away.

They worked for several hours. After they left I went into my office to straighten out things.

On the desk behind where the printer had been was this, or these.

bags

  1. I didn’t know dave smoked and
  2. Of course I found out that he was going steady and assume having sex in Japan.
  3. The surprise was that he was having sex in NYC with someone who could either get pregnant or give him cooties.

It’s a good thing that I’m such a shitty house keeper. If I had found this a few years ago it would have broken my heart.

Now all I could think was ” Oh my God, what if the guys saw this and thought it was mine?”

I wouldn’t mind if they thought I was a slut but a smoker????

A side note: I didn’t really examine much of the stuff I put in the garbage . Later that afternoon I bumped into George, one of the guys who was helping me and he handed me this.

Dad

“I know you didn’t mean to throw this away”

I must have trashed it with a bunch of books. It was written by my father.

I just hugged George.

See why I love living here?

 

 

956. The more things change the more they stay the same.

I remember about 30 years ago dave and I were in Montauk and we were at my friends Susan and Allan’s house.

Someone had knocked down their mailbox and because I’m always a trouble maker I kept urging Al to call the police.

Montauk was really a small town then and I believed that a bent mailbox was definitely something that the local cops would want to make note  of.

Al resisted until he looked at his roof and saw that his TV antenna was missing. Remember …30 years ago and TV antennas were high ticket items.

Seeing this he finally relented and made the call.

No sooner than 10 minutes later a police car drove into the driveway all flashing lights which happened to shine on Sue and Al’s roof, showing the TV antenna a few feet further back than Al thought. There wasn’t much crime in Montauk then

“Uh oh” Al said mumbling to dave to look up.

Luckily Al had said nothing specific on the phone only saying that there was some damage and something may be missing so after the cops looked around the house  searching for clues they promised to keep an eye out and left.

Why am I telling you this?

Well all yesterday, Sunday, I noticed that the a/c in my living room wasn’t working.

When I walked Ray this morning I asked the doorman to ask the Super, Lester , who from now on will be known as Alba’s husband, to come up to my apartment so I can get an explanation for this.

Since I can’t hear my bell and my dog is deaf as a doornail (is that a saying?) Lester usually just opens the door and walks in. He calls me until I hear him and we discuss whatever we have to discuss.

I have told him not to feel nervous about this since I am never naked.

I even wear slacks in the shower

Well he should be coming up any minute so since I don’t want to look like the fool Allan did all those years ago in Montauk I’m going to rip the wires out of my a/c unit.

I still have my dignity and I intend to keep it.

Did I forget to add that the a/c is working today?

 

955. Back Home in trump Land

Yep I’m home.

Ray gave me what to him was a gleeful welcome.

He hopped, twirled and barked once then he walked away.

I know he wasn’t suffering because his main caregiver, Alba, my superintendent Lester’s wife and my dear friend sent me photos of his time away from me.

Here he is at nap time with her son Christopher.IMG_3517

Our trip was wonderful.

Since Marcia and I are old we had a travel agent Eva who made sure that someone picked us up and delivered us to each place. Lucky because we couldn’t find our way out of a paper bag.

She also found us a sale on business class tickets. I have never traveled business class before and I was really looking forward to it.

Although it was way better than coach it wasn’t all I was told it would be.

For example my niece Stephanie (who’s rich and goes first class everywhere) said at the airport I could go to the fancy lounge where you could shower and drink and eat great food but when I came out of the bathroom with my shower cap, a towel wrapped around me and my back brush imagine my disappointment when there was no shower to be had. And the staff was absolutely snippy when I complained.

And I don’t say chips and a lettuce sandwich are snooty eats.

If that’s what they call ritzy you can have it.

I will say we loved Positano. The view alone was soul enriching.

Here is a picture of the view from our terrace

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We got this deal from Verizon where for $10 a day you could use your phone as if you were in NY so Marcia was able to keep in touch with her husband.

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I put that time to good use taking selfies.

I know there is nothing more boring than looking at other people’s vacation photos but here’s one more. Or maybe two. I couldn’t resist including our swimming in the Mediterranean.

 

My sister and I love each other so much.

Well as I said I’m home now with my boy  sleeping on my lap catching up on my Bravo shows and all is right with the world.

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Well maybe not all. Notice the title of this post.