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.

lily

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.

954. Our Vacation Part two

We’re in Positano.

This is a land of hills and even the pool is a million flights down but we made it because like our forefathers who fled across the desert to escape the Pharoah, we like to take a dip in the afternoon.

So Marcia goes in the pool first. I notice that she’s chatting with someone. It seems that this man and his family are going to Capri, the place we just left.

Here’s what’s odd about her speaking to this guy. We don’t let anyone talk to us. I’m surprised to see her yapping away. I go in the pool and drift over to her.

She’s telling him about this great restaurant that we ate at in Capri.

“It was the best restaurant I’ve ever eaten in” I hear her say.

“You will never eat a better meal” she continues.

Stupid me, I interject, “You don’t know that Marcia. He may eat gourmet meals all the time”

Marcia answers me with a sort of sneer “The man is from Minnesota ”

Now I know that like myself, my sister believes that the USA is a vast wasteland between New York and California but  i really try not to let the middle of the country know that I think that 90% of them are married to a close relative. Not so Marcia.

The guy spent the rest of the conversation dropping international places he’s visited trying to get a bit of respect back from Sis.

Yep We’re making friends left and right.

953. Our Fabulous Vacation Part 1

It’s finally here. The day of my trip to Italy with my sister Marcia.

I believe I have thought of everything.

Ray has sensed my excitement and has abandoned his usual blasé attitude to clinging to me like a lamprey.

All that’s left is for Marcia to pick me up on her way to the airport, she lives upstate, about 5 hours away, when the phone rings.

Marcia,  “Something terrible has happened. I forgot my passport. I have to go back or have someone bring it to me.”

It’s a few days later.

Marcia got to the plane minutes before the doors closed. We hugged and hugged.

Of course they lost her luggage so we had to wait a day before I could stop seeing her in a  wrinkled blue skirt.

I know what you’re thinking. I should be feeling sorry for her because she didn’t have a change of clothes but hey it was my trip too and she put a kink in what I liked to refer to as “My Vacation For The Eyes”.

After Marcia’s bag arrived we were able to begin the trip anew.

We decided that the Naples part would be spent broadening our intellectual horizons.

We were on our way to this famous castle. Our travel agent Eva said it was not to be missed. She even booked us a hotel within walking distance.

We were on our way there when we happened to come upon a little store that sold earrings that looked like real roses.

No sooner did we leave there when lo and behold a luggage store.

When we changed planes in Rome we lugged our really heavy carry ons for the 30 mile treck to the plane that would take us to Naples.

Two old ladies chugging along gasping for breath while everyone else floated along with their carryons on wheels.

After the luggage store…..

When I get home I’ll send you a picture of that castle in the distance. Next time you’re in Naples you MUST visit it and let me know what it looked like.

 952. My dog can be a real prick

For the past month or so I’ve been very careful.

I look both ways when I cross the street. I take my vitamins. I stay away from anyone who even looks like they may be coming down with something.

Just last week I invited Julie and her family to dinner. Later in the conversation she mentioned that she wasn’t feeling up to par. I rescinded the invitation.

Why?

Because on Wednesday my sister Marcia and I are leaving for our yearly week in Italy. Why Italy again? Good eats and neither of us speaks Italian so we don’t have to talk to anyone but each other.

We look forward to this all year. We love each other so much and for that week we don’t have to think of doing anything  but making ourselves happy.

The other day I was patting myself on the back for being right on schedule for the trip when I noticed that  Ray was limping slightly.

I will save you the details of how limping slightly turned into hopping on 3 legs.

When this guy is happy he looks like he just ate a lemon. Imagine how he looks when he’s sad.

And me leaving him in a few days with… well not me.

I’m boring myself so I’ll just cut to the chase. I took him to the vet.

For only $466 I found that he turned his ankle.

By that night he was walking just fine and dancing like a lunatic when I picked up his leash.

Not to say he didn’t have a pissed off expression on his face.

He isn’t a guy that wants me to have a happy moment. Even though he’s cured he needs to show me that everything still isn’t perfect.

depressed

Just now I heard him mumbling the dog version of “ahem” so I would see that  he couldn’t even get up the energy to get his whole body in his bed.

I ignored him but out of the corner of my eye I saw him checking to see why I wasn’t looking.

happy

What a prick.