968. My wonderful family and a stabbing

As I mentioned, my nephew Yitzhak, nee Eric, came on his yearly visit from Israel.

He comes to see all of us and to pray at his mother’s grave.

Last year he brought nine of his ten children. This year a measly 3 and a grandchild. My sister Marcia drove over 5 hours so she could see them.

They spent a few days with me and then took a short trip to Washington DC, which is about 5 hours from my house.

When he came back he said he was so impressed that Marcia drove down to see them because he found the drive to DC difficult.

“You don’t drive long distances in Israel?”

“If I drove 5 hours in Israel I’d be in Lebanon.”

When they arrived in DC he called to let me know that they had arrived safely. They had parked the car and were off to the Holocaust Museum.

“Sounds like fun. Enjoy.”

It wasn’t all sight seeing. They were also able to visited some Klam cousins

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Plus they worked at fitting in by

  1. Lazing by the poolIMG_4007

and 2. demonstrating for the public good

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They’ve returned to Israel but their American relatives miss them every day.

Now I don’t know if I’ve told you this before. I probably have but tough, all old people repeat themselves a lot.

When they come to my house they won’t eat off my plates, touch my food or use any of my cooking utensils so I have a big plastic bag filled with kosher stuff that I keep behind my couch when they aren’t here.

After they left I picked up the bag and was badly stabbed by a knife sticking out of the bag.

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Now most people stabbed like that with a wound that clearly needed stitches or at least a sling would have asked for an ambulance but my dedication to family made me ignore my suffering and go to the aid of Julie who had life and death foot surgery the day before.

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Over I went to care for her.

What I didn’t know was that I was risking my own survival in carrying her around her apartment, spoon feeding her plus doing general cleaning and light dusting.

In a short time my wound opened up and I was forced to bandage it up so that I wouldn’t lose too much blood.

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(man do I need some moisturizer on my arms)

This was made worse because Julie told me that Ann Leary said that as you get older you lose fat in the only place you really want it, on the bottom of your feet.

Not only was I suffering from a blood loss which clearly resulted in light headedness, bleary eyesight and all around not goodness but I also was well on my way to bone bottom feet.

In spite of all this I soldiered on.

I don’t like to speak ill of the wounded but I asked Julie about 6 times where she keeps her slings and it was greeted by stony silence.

I just hope I can recover sufficiently to host my usual Thanksgiving dinner.

This year it’s for 20.

I think it’s 20. Being stabbed has played havoc with my memory.

967 Dear Warren and What’s New

I just read your comment:

“Always liked this blog.
But lately it stopped being updated
Hope this is only temporary.”

Well, Warren, if I may call you Warren, you can blame Donald Trump and the NRA on my not writing as much.

I try to make my blog amusing but I am having some trouble thinking of anything funny to say and when I do something shitty happens so it goes on the back burner.

But if you get any pleasure in what I write I will try to do better.

My malaise began about a year ago when Stephanie and Terry spent the night at my house and Terry referred to my 46″ TV as “crappy”.

Look I’m not a person that holds on to an insult but as you know I need my TV to be in tip top shape because the “Housewives” close ups can be very unforgiving and since I spend the majority of my life studying them….. well you can guess why this  bugged me.

However I’m a woman alone without a lot of discretionary money so I just sucked it up.

Finally I decided to bite the bullet and look into a new SMART TV.

I bumped into my Super, Lester, and asked him if he knew anything about TVs. Luckily for me he did.

He was sitting at my computer going through my options when Julie dropped in.

“Why’s Lester sitting at your computer?”

“He’s helping me pick out a TV”

“Why?”

“Because he’s my Super”

My Super doesn’t help me buy a TV”

“Well you live on the west side”

So back to the TV discussion.

Lester finds the perfect TV for me.

“What size?” he asks

“49 inch”

“You really have room for a “55”

“That’s too big. My room isn’t that big”

“I have a 55 inch TV. Come down to my house and look at it.”

“No. I think 49 inches is plenty.”

“You’re making a mistake but okay”

The TV arrived 2 days later.  Lester came up, took my old TV away and connected my new TV.

All that night and the next day I watched my TV but something wasn’t right. I couldn’t put my finger on it.

Then it came to me. It was too small.

The damn thing looked like a postage stamp.

I called Amazon and arranged to return it and get the 55 inch TV.

Lester was up in my apartment packing up the old/new TV and installing my perfect TV while I harangued him about pushing me into buying that teeny piece of shit in the first place when Julie called.

We were on speaker phone and Julie did the unthinkable. She sided with Lester. Not something I will forgive any time soon.

My family is here from Israel. They pray all the time. I asked my nephew to slip in a thank you to “you know who” for my great TV.

Because it is great!!!!

I just re read this blog. It is so boring that I owe you, Warren, an apology. Maybe I’m just rusty and I’ll get better.

We shall see.

 

966. Does this warrant a blog? I’m not sure.

My niece Randy and her daughter Jessie stayed at my house last night because they had tickets to see “Hello Dolly”.

They left my apartment at 7 p.m. and went to 57th and Third to get a cab to the theatre.

My niece walks with a cane.

They were waiting for about 10 minutes when a young blonde woman, very pretty, in her 30’s stopped near them and put her hand up to hail a cab while looking at her phone.

My girls moved up a ways so as not to interfere with her.

A cab, going the other way, made a u turn and stopped in front of Randy and Jess. I guess he chose them because of the cane.

The woman, who we shall now refer to as fuckhead, started waving her arms screaming
“NO NO NO!  I’ve been waiting for 40 minutes” A total lie because they were there before her and they were only there for 15 minutes.

Jess is just about to get into the cab when FF hits her in the head with her purse. Jess dives in the cab to get away from her.

FF tries to yank Jess out of the cab while pushing  Randy (and her cane) to the ground.

Finally the cab driver yells at her to get away. Jess pulls Randy into the cab and closes the door. They drive away with FF giving them the finger.

The cab driver said he’s been driving a cab for 30 years and never saw anything like this. He said at first he thought they were friends and it was a joke.

I am making an announcement:

If you are blonde, pretty and in your 30’s and I see you on 57th street anywhere near Third Avenue I am going to kick the shit out of you.

I’m thinking it will take awhile before I get the right perp but you know the old saying about kissing a lot of frogs……

965 Flora, Fauna and eating habits from other lands

Last night I had a dinner party for Julie, Dan and his darling sister, Holly.

You all know what Julie looks like but here is a photo of Dan and Holly.

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I adore them both. I don’t know if you can tell but they’re the people from another land of which I spoke, Iowa or Indiana, one of the “I” states.

(I’d like to note here that I love and accept all people)

Most people that come to my house are well aware of my entertainment rules. Wait, not just mine, all civilization’s rules.

  1. Lovely appetizers and cocktails. polite conversation;   40 to 45 minutes
  2. Arrange yourselves at the table;  Shouldn’t take more than 3 to 5 minutes
  3. Enjoy a lovely 3 course meal. Can occur in one hour if the chit chat is kept to a minimum.
    1. last night’s dinner was a lovely salad, chicken parmigiana with cheese and basil pasta, dessert of apple pie and ice cream.
    2. lovely beverages were served throughout.
  4. Saying our good byes. Not more than 2 minutes.

Since Dan has entered our family I’ve loosened this up a bit because the goyim seem to have to pee just as everyone else is at the elevator and I’m nothing if not flexible.

I will say it hasn’t been easy but he’s conformed to our family quite nicely and not too long after I say “Go home” he pees and joins the others at the door.

Last night got us off to a bad start

They came 20 minutes late. This wasn’t too serious but I explained that they’d have to rush through dessert.

Then through no fault of my own my salad was so extraordinary that much time was used up praising it and asking for ingredients. (fyi strawberries).

I was sure that Dan schooled is sister on New York dining but he seems to have left out one major thing which can throw the whole meal off.

YOU ONLY TALK IN BETWEEN COURSES. The poor girl chatted between bites.

Which is why she unfortunately didn’t have time to finish her dessert.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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”.

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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

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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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