My super and I were having coffee together today and he asked me if I believed in God.

The explanation as to why we were having coffee isn’t that interesting, we were waiting for the guys to come to replace my terrace doors.

How we strayed from discussing Mob Wives to the Supreme Deity was a bit more complicated. It might have been because I mentioned in conversation that dave was going to hell.

When I answered his question by telling him that I wasn’t sure there was a God and in fact I didn’t believe in hell even if there was one he was visibly shocked.

“If there’s a God, there’s a hell” he insisted.

“Say there is a God and he’s too sweet to make a hell. Or maybe hell is like the Bronx. I worked there in the 70’s and believe me it fits the bill”

That’s when I realized that I should drop the whole thing.

Just yesterday he said I was a sweetheart.

I don’t want him to change his mind and start thinking of me as a heathen.

I think that when he comes back from getting a hammer I’m going to tell him I was born again.

I did go to visit Dave Taylor’s mother. It wasn’t a nursing home it was an assisted living place that had been converted from a luxury hotel

Gertie was as great as I knew she’d be.

She kept complaining that her children  stuck her in this hole and with no regard for her feelings.

Because I love her I jumped right on the bandwagon calling them a bunch of shits and kept agreeing with her adding “One mother can take care care of twelve children but twelve children can’t take care of one mother”

“ten” she corrected, clearly pleased that I knew her mantra.

I brought her flowers and when Ronnie went to get a vase she gave me the lowdown on the “hole”.

Everyone was so nice and she had the best room.

She started bragging about the food and the entertainment. She said that the music was so good last night that even the people in wheelchairs were dancing.

She has a regular card game and the sweetest russian girl who really likes her who waits on her hand and foot.

We went down to the sunroom which has beautiful gardens and a view of the ocean. She met up with her friend of about 50 years who lives there too.

While they were all talking I was eying some of the men.

I’m not going to say that any of them would be my first choice but there was one guy who looked a little like Kirk Douglas. If you could get past the walker and the oxygen thing in his nose he wasn’t half bad.

I’ve dated worse. Remember the guy who tried to run me over?

Rupert is going to the beauty parlor today.

This gives me mixed feelings. I feel sorry for him because he hates it but I can go out without watching him pressing himself against the wall and staring at me sadly.

He didn’t have such a great day yesterday though. He fell out of his carriage into a puddle. He wasn’t hurt at all but I drew a lot of odd looks when I scooped him up and hugged him in my arms crooning “You poor thing. Are you alright?”

He said nothing.

I have a fabulous day planned for today.

I’m going to Brooklyn with my friend Ronnie. We’re going to get our nails done and visit her mother in law in the nursing home. Then we may meet Lizzie for dinner since David is away on business.

I know visiting Dave Taylor’s mother may not seem like fun to a lot of people but the woman is a sketch.

She’s real mean and feels totally okay about showing it.

As soon as you get there she starts bitching about why you haven’t come sooner and how thoughtless her family is except for anyone who is related to the people who aren’t there. For example even though Dave and Ronnie’s kids visit her all the time, she talks about how great her other grand children are.

It used to piss Ronnie off until I suggested she probably does the same thing to the others.

She doesn’t hear well so she talks in a very loud voice about what a bunch of dopes are in the place with her but she seems to have a lot of friends and keeps busy playing cards.

When I’m there I like to agree with her. She’s exactly the kind of old person I want to be.

Wait, I already am old and mean is just around the corner.

The other day my sister asked me if I’ll change my name after my divorce.

It never occurred to me.

I was Mattie Matthews longer than I was Mattie Smith and Mattie Matthews is such a cute name. Kinda like a stripper.

But, I started thinking, I don’t like dave any more. Maybe I still love him but I really don’t like him.

I was always so proud of him. One of the first things that came to mind when I thought of dave was his sense of honor. I would have bet my life on it. I used to brag that I married someone like my father.

When he gave his word it was his bond.

I  loved this about him even though I have to admit that at times it would make me angry because he’d be pressured into agreeing to something by his japanese partner, Kawashima, that ended up not being fair to him or his musicians.

In spite of this he would never go back on it because he gave his word.  Even though if it were reversed, Kawashima would and has changed the deal in a second.

Now that I find that dave’s been lying to me for I don’t know how long I feel like a jerk.

He says even now that I can trust him but how can I?

Anyway back to my name.

Here’s another thing I was thinking. When I get divorced even if I keep the name Matthews I won’t be Mrs.

What will I be? Miss? that doesn’t seem right.

That just reminded me. When I was a little girl I asked my father what his title was at his job and he said “Emperor”

That pretty much means I can call myself anything I want with my daddy’s blessing and he WAS the man I thought he was.

Anyone who read my niece’s book “Please Excuse My Daughter” would know that my sister, like myself, is a Saks kind of girl but since she’s moved to the boonies you wouldn’t recognize her.

We were leaving her house this morning so she could drive me to the train to get back home. Even the train is a million miles away from her house. I think locally they travel by beaver.

As she gets in the car I reminded her that she wanted to get the car washed on the way to the station.

“Oh right” she says and jumps out of the car and grabs a towel.

“What’s that for?”

“To dry the car”

“WE’RE WASHING THE CAR OURSELVES ?”

She just looked at me with disgust.

Then we get to the car wash place which is simply a tin something.

She gets out of the car. May I note that she’s dressed almost entirely in Ralph Lauren because she had a Library meeting to go to after she dropped me off.

I said “Let me help you” and I started to get out of the car but she put up her hand to stop me because “They only have one hose”

There were signs all over the place with a lot of rules and directions.

They say to clean the brush with the hose before attaching it. Oops no brush.

Marcia explained that not all the tin things have brushes and if we weren’t in such a hurry she would have checked first.

The car looked pretty good when we left and as if to convince me that it’s a great find she said that you can hang your floor mats up on hooks and wash them too.

That is when they replace the hooks. Probably after they replace the brushes.

I’m on an Amtrak train on my way to visit my sister.

Before I got on I bought an egg white wrap to eat on the train.

Just as the doors closed a skinny kid with a sparse mustache sat next to me. I heard him tell the kid across the way that he had bought 65 packs of cigarettes. His friend said “You could sell them when we get to school”

He answered “No I want to smoke them”

Normally I would give him a lecture on the dangers of smoking but all I could think of was how could I eat my sandwich without this skinny kid seeing me.

I used to love train travel but that was before I found out that I snore. I spent the whole 4 hour trip trying to keep awake even though I had gotten up before 6.

I keep getting emails from different people about some business that is going awry.

Even though I try to be very open in my blog I can’t talk about this because I promised not to. Unfortunately I forgot who I promised not to tell who about what so I’m gun shy about discussing anything.

In fact when the conductor came and asked me what stop I was getting off at I said “What’s it to you?”

I wonder who’s luckier, Kenny G’s wife being dumped by a mediocre musician with a shitload of money or me being dumped by a great musician with not so much money?

This is a no brainer. Obviously Kenny G’s wife and besides I never met a musician’s wife who didn’t think her husband was incredibly gifted so for all I know dave’s a hack so being dumped by a hack with no dough is a double whammy.

But probably she’s as happy to not have to go to his Muzak concerts as I am to be rid of listening to jazz.

This is a straight doo wop house from now on.

Anyway back to me.

This was an interesting weekend because it was the first time I didn’t have to be anywhere or worry about leaving anyone alone (you know who you are Rupert.)

The funny thing is that I had a hard time getting it into my head.

I went to the bookstore, one of my favorite things to do, and I found myself hurrying to pick out books. Then I reminded myself that Rupert was in the Hamptons and no one was waiting for me at home. Instead of feeling sad I felt really free.

I sat down and read the beginnings of books to see if I really liked them. I put 2 of them back. Usually I don’t do that until I get home and then I’m stuck with them.

When dave and I were dating we used to go to Brentano’s in the Village and he’d buy me piles of books. I was in heaven ( he was Dave then). Of course every carrot has a stick (is that a saying?) because after that we’d go to hear jazz at a club nearby.

One time dave was playing at that same place with a trio and some guy jumped out of a window while he was running away from the police. He broke his leg and screaming he crawled into the club with the cops hot on his tail.

They called for an ambulance and while they were waiting the band kept playing and the guy kept yelling. Finally the cop leaned over and said “why don’t you shut up and enjoy the music. It the last you’re going to hear for a long time”

Good times.

Today I went into Liz and David’s house to as I say “share the morning” as David says “bust in”.

I was glad to see that David was sitting in his chair dressed for work because he’s real touchy about me strolling in when he’s coming out of the shower even though I’ve told him many times that he doesn’t have anything I haven’t seen before.

I digress. I noticed that he wasn’t wearing a tie and I remarked on it.

He said it’s because he has a meeting with a jewish guy this morning who never wears a tie so he considers this appropriate dress.

“This guy is really plugged in with all the big jewish money”.

He’s thinking that if he dresses casually it will curry favor. I suggested that if he brings me along that would really impress him. He could pretend that he knows a jew.

“I know 3 jews.” he protested.

” If I include your family I know a shitload of jews. Did they turn Matt’s wife? I know they turned Cheryl but those two look like WASPS if I’ve ever seen one.”

“They’ll be thrilled to hear that” Any sarcasm in my voice is wasted on him.

But he didn’t want to offend so he said “I think jews are a fine race. Many of them are very smart.”

I’m clearly not one of the smart ones because I love the guy.

Liz’s David says I should join a group so I can make some more friends. I’m thinking that he just wants me to leave him and Liz alone although he says it’s because he’s sick of hearing about the same 2 friends all the time. Susan and Ronnie, Susan and Ronnie.

He says it’s pathetic that my family and these 2 girls make up my close circle.

It’s true that Susan is my best friend and Ronnie is a close second but I do have other girlfriends that I really care about, Carol, Ginny, Marlene (I’m sure I can come up with a few more names).

No need to dwell  on what a huge part my family has always played in my life, Sisters, nieces, nephews,cousins, step daughter. I’ve told you all about them through this blog.

I never had a lot of close friends.

When I think of Susan I could say so much about why we’re so close but they would sound like descriptions of any friend. We laugh together, we have fun, we agree on many things and understand each others positions on the things we don’t agree on.

I remember many years ago we were in a club listening to our husbands playing jazz. We looked around the room at other young girls sitting there and almost at the same time said “Now why would anyone be listening to this shit  if they didn’t have to ?” That was a solidifying moment.

But if I were to say why she’s my best friend it would have to be because of this and what this symbolizes.

2 dogs ago I had a basset hound named Norman. I adored him. He was getting old and he needed his teeth cleaned. I didn’t sleep the night before. I was sure he’d be terrified to be left in a strange place without me.

I got to the vet’s office a little early and I was shaking. When I walked into the office, Susan was sitting there.

She didn’t ask me if she should come because she knew I’d say no. It has always been very hard for me to accept help.

She also knew how scared I was so she was just there. I still remember the relief I felt seeing her.

I have another good friend named Sue. She’s been my friend since the 6th grade. We don’t see each other very often but whenever we talk it’s like the old days when we’d sit around watching American Bandstand and asking each other “Who should we call?”.

Although I was always known as the “funny” one, I always knew that Sue was way funnier than I was.

When we were about 16 I had my junior driving license. Sue and I were in my mother’s car (without my mother) waiting for someone to pull out of a parking space so I could pull in. It was a narrow street so I pulled into the pump in front so they could get out. Before I could back up into the space another car fronted in and took it.

We told her we were waiting for that space and she just got out of her car and said “Sorry, I’m in a hurry”.

Well we were peeved. We went up to Sue’s house and planned our revenge. We were going to write on her car with lipstick.

Since the parking space was right in front of Sue’s apartment house and we didn’t want her doorman to see us we decided to put on disguises.

I took blue cream eyeshadow and put it on my lips. Then I put red lipstick and put it on my eyelids. Then I put a lampshade on my head.

Sue changed from a red sweater to a red sweatshirt.

So I was listening to the Italian Coast Guard trying to talk the captain of the sunken ship into getting back on the ship so he could organize the rescue of the people still on the boat. Tell them how many women, how many children etc.

Even without the translation you could hear the fury in the voice of the guy from the Coast Guard and the sniveling tone of the captain saying that one of the reasons he didn’t want to get back on the ship was because it was dark.

“Oh poor thing, it’s dark. You want to go home?” he mimicked him.

Now don’t think  I don’t know that this is a big leap but remember I told you that I re-read my blog the other day?

Well I was embarrassed at how much I was whining about my fear of being poor.

The truth is I won’t poor. I’ll be poorer.

I won’t be able to pick up checks but I’ll be able to eat.

I will have a roof over my head.

I won’t be using Lancome. I’ll suffer with Revlon.

Anyway, you get the point.

That captain was afraid to get on the ship because it might sink further?

The damn thing was aground.  He could get on the part that’s still above the water. There were people in the lower part that didn’t fare as well.

Now that I’m reading this I’m thinking I’m a pretty great guy and I’d remain that way in your eyes if I didn’t write the next sentence.

I still can’t be cavalier about the no Bounty. That cheap shit sucks.