223 Kenny G’s wife, call me. I’ll teach you how to trash talk

It’s been 35 years since Elvis’s untimely death.

He and I had a very special relationship. His was the first album I ever bought. I carried it around until my father took pity on me and bought me a stereo. It was pink and when Julie got old enough I gave it to her.

I was in Europe when he died. My first thought other than “oy” was that now I”d never see him live and he’d never spot me from the stage, pull me up a la Bruce Springsteen and request me to do the twist with him only then seeing that  I also knew that lasso move so he would karate chop dave out of my life and bring me back to Graceland for a life of touch football with the memphis mafia, peanut butter and banana sandwiches and Cadillacs up the kazoo. That’s what I call livin’. I loved dave then but hey it’s Elvis. Even he would have understood.

Those were the days when dave had that James Brown money and he would have taken me any place I wanted to go. I just thought I had more time to see Elvis.

So what am I doing to  commemorate this momentous occasion? (lotta m’s)

I had a pretty good day planned. Julie, Violet and I were going to Brooklyn to meet up with Susan. We were going to have mani pedis. In Brooklyn that costs $15 as opposed to the cheapest rate in Manhattan of $30. Then a great lunch and whatever else we decided to do.

Unfortunately Violet put the kabash on that. She wants to go to the Planetarium. When Violet says “jump” we like to say “How high?”.

And who wants to have a fun day when you can sit in a dark room filled with screaming kids instead? There is one good thing however. In Manhattan we can have cocktails with lunch, even Violet if she wants, since there is no driving involved.

RIP Elvis

222. “Hip” is in the eye of the beholder if the beholder is yourself.

I’ve had a busy few weeks. A few days after coming back from Montauk I spent 4 days up at Steph’s house minding her dogs WITH NO TV.  Lucky both dogs can sing and dance so it wasn’t totally boring but how many times can you hear “I’m a Little Teapot”? They aren’t exactly Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers.

My 11 year old nephew Jacob spent one night up there with me. That was really good. He’s just as much fun as his father always was.

I’m back home now. I’m not particularly happy and I’m not particularly sad. I have my usual free floating anxiety.

To most people that’s a bad thing but to me it’s situation normal. In fact it’s good because it means I don’t have anything specific to worry about. I may not have cancer today and the IRS hasn’t sent me any letters so I’m not in any immediate danger.

I get an occasional email from people from my old life saying they still like me and that always makes me happy.

Man, I’m boring myself.

Wait here’s something that’s slightly interesting. Every time my nephew Brian comes to visit he feels like he must leave an imprint. He may change the picture on my phone to be a close up of his face or something even more annoying.

Several visits ago he put 2 reminders on my ipad. Every day at 2 pm it says “pick nose” and every night at 9 pm it says ” scratch butt”. I never took it off because, well I don’t mind knowing when it’s 2 o’clock and  9 0’clock.

While I was up at Steph’s I mentioned it to Jacob’s dad, Jim and Jacob screamed “I saw that but I thought you put it there and I didn’t want to embarrass you”

That just goes to show that no matter how hip you think you are, old people are a total disgusting mystery to young people. The very idea that it didn’t seem odd to him that I would want to remind myself to pick my nose or scratch my butt is startling.

221. If the mob is after you just change from a grey hat to a blue hat and they’ll never find you.

I went out to dinner tonight with Ronnie and Mary Moreno, Allen Rubin’s widow.

It was a really nice girl’s night out. We chatted about the music business, the difference between Mary’s loss and mine, a bunch of other things like all the new things we all hoped to try.

We eventually got around to our backgrounds. Although I’ve known Ronnie for a lot of years, Mary is a new friend. She happened to mention that she’s from Chicago and Ronnie asked her what her father did.

“He was a gangster. In fact we had to leave Chicago because Al Capone had taken out a hit on him.”

Our eyes almost popped out of our heads.

“Did he get killed?”

“No, we moved to Washington and he changed our names. Our original name was Marino and he changed it to Moreno”

220. Shouldn’t a good friend tell you if you have a banana in your ear?

Remember this morning I was sad?

Well I’m not sad any more but I am becoming nuttier and nuttier.

I decided to meet my friend Susan for lunch. She thought I needed cheering up. We were to meet on 14th Street and 6th Avenue.  That’s one downtown bus and one crosstown bus (thanks dave for taking cabs out of my life.)

I get to the Lexington Avenue bus and realize that I didn’t have my bus pass. I was pretty sure I mailed it with the 3 bills I put in the mailbox but just to make sure I ran home. I emptied out my pocketbook and couldn’t find it. I kept looking and finally found it in my bedroom.

I rushed back to the bus stop and began my trip. Some fatso was screaming at an old lady for getting in line in front of her but I’ll save that for another day.

I finally get to the restaurant and Susan and I order. I wanted to pay because Susan paid for me last time but she wouldn’t hear of it so I agreed to split it.

We asked for the check and I went to take out my credit card and my wallet was missing. I was sure I had it on the bus. I figured it must have fallen out or that angry fat bitch stole it.

My wallet had everything in it. All my credit cards, my license, my medicare card, checks. I was really sad.

Anyway Susan had to pay for me again.

We go back to my apartment  by cab because I was so distraught and when we got there I found my wallet on my dining room table. It seems that when I emptied my pocketbook I forgot to put it back in.

Much relieved Susan and I went into my bedroom to watch Dr. Phil or something when after about 1/2 hour I was forced to tell Susan that she was useless as a friend.

If she were any good at all she would have noticed that my blouse was on inside out all day.

219. Take that snake and shove it up your ass.

Legal separation ain’t all it’s cracked up to be.

For some reason I’m feeling low as a snake. I feel like my skin is so thin that any decision I make  even good ones stress me out.

I met with my lawyer last week. I was barely listening to her. The whole time I was wondering if she thought I was a schmuck to still be wearing my wedding and engagement rings. Then I had a dream that dave came over with his wife and new baby.  I know I know you people are fed up with hearing about my dreams.

I went to Montauk this weekend with Julie and Violet and Matthew and Lara and Pixie. It was an entire house of Klams. Pretty fitting in Montauk.

The nights were far from restful. True I slept in a king size bed but I had some company, Julie, Violet and their 3 dogs.

Julie sleeps like  a pencil, never moving, Violet sleeps in the middle like a dancing starfish and I sleep on the edge with my sleep mask on which Julie said that whenever she wakes up and looks over scares her. Then the dogs move in and out of the covers constantly stopping only to kiss you like crazy whenever you give signs that you may be waking up. Those signs can consist of any movement at all.

In addition both Julie and I got some kind of stomach thing so we couldn’t drink. That didn’t help either of our personalities.

On the way home we stopped to pick up lunch for Violet and someone stole Julie’s cell phone.

When I got home, David was in his apartment and I couldn’t have been happier to see him. He must have sensed my fragile condition and he was extremely nice to me.

Maybe today will be better.

218. The trials and tribulations of being “available”

Miss Liz is home for a few days. then she’s going back to Santa Fe for a short time and then coming back for good.  I really miss her when she’s gone.

Rupe and I went up to Steph’s yesterday to have lunch with Shelby. She’s the creative genius who does the drawings for my blog. I am so lucky to have found her. I’m hoping we can do loads of projects together.

When I got home David told me that Lizzie was having drinks and maybe dinner with people from her office. She didn’t get home until almost 11 and David was sleeping so she came into my house to pick up Rupert and we had cocktails, well Lizzie had a cocktail because she was afraid she was losing her buzz.

We were talking for about an hour when I heard a light tap on the door. I opened the door and there was David in his robe yawning and asking for Liz.

Notice the difference when Liz is in town, a light tap instead of  “Openheimer ze doorhopin” or whatever he yells to summon me in a gestapo voice.

Anyway he came in and sat for awhile. I told Liz that when she is away he knocks on my door every night in his robe and tries to cajol me into opening up.

I reassured her that since my loyalty is with her I just yell into the peephole “Take it someplace else, horndog!”

Being a woman alone makes you fodder for every lonely guy on the make.