This day is not starting out well.

I wake up to the news that Suge Knight was arrested for murder. Oh Suge, I thought you were keeping your nose clean since I think it was only a few months ago you got shot and got a blood clot.

But who am I to talk?

My friend Ernie used to say that I was both the nicest and meanest person he ever met. It’s true too.

I can be very very mean. For example if someone is rude to me in a store I aim to say something so mean that they will think about it when they get home that night. Something like (in a sweet voice) “I know you feel bad that you’re in this dead end job and you’ll never do any better than you’re doing right now and even you know you should have gone to a real salon to get your hair cut so I’m not at all mad at you for being in a bad mood”

Interestingly I never feel bad after something like that but that’s not always the case when I do something nice.

Yesterday the marina where dave keeps his boat called.

He had asked them to clean the boat in preparation to his arrival with his new wife.

It seems that they didn’t have the combination to get inside and they couldn’t reach him because he’s in Japan and since it was the middle of the night he wouldn’t be getting his email.

Of course, unless he changed it, which I could never see happening, I knew it.

I thought for a minute. What do I give a shit if they get there and the inside of the boat was all dirty and mildewy? That bitch was going to be screwing my husband on my Charisma sheets and cooking sushi in my pots. (I know I know you don’t cook sushi but I’m steamed)

But I gave them the code. It’s 8826 in case any of you Florida people want to go over there and rob them or even push them around.

I did say that I was divorced from dave so this wasn’t the right number to reach him.

The woman apologized and asked if she should remove the number from their books and at first I said yes but then I said just leave it in case of emergency.

This would fall under a kind act but did I feel good about it? The answer is no. I felt like a sap.

I felt much better when I told that woman that her haircut stunk.

Yesterday Ray wasn’t himself. He was listless and he seemed depressed. I wanted to die.

He was eating and everything but he just wasn’t acting normally. Naturally I went right to Leukemia.

When we went over to David’s house for coffee as we do most Sundays, instead of running down the hall he just slowly walked. He didn’t twirl once.

David was alarmed. He kept saying “He just ain’t right.”

It reminded me why I shouldn’t have a pet. I suffer so much when they’re sick.

Since his symptoms were vague I went to Facebook for advice. That is after calling my sister and Julie to see what they thought.

Luckily one girl who I really trust because she has a goose and bees wrote right back to me with test questions. Is his stomach distended? Does he seem in pain? No and no.

She did advise me to save his stool so if I take him to the vet I’d have it to give him.

He did seem better at the end of the day.

We went to David’s for cocktails. Ray didn’t run but he did walk down the hall at a steady gait. He seemed better.

Though David felt he wasn’t totally okay he saw that he was improving.

While we were talking I mentioned that I had saved Ray’s stool and put it in the refrigerator.

“You what?”

I knew he heard so I didn’t feel any need to repeat myself.

“That is so disgusting I don’t even know what to say. Shit in the refrigerator?”

“It’s in a plastic bag. I know it’s there. No one’s going to eat it by mistake.”

“It’s freezing outside. Why didn’t you put it on the terrace?”

“You may be right. After all I am pretty forgetful lately. I’ll move it. Better safe than sorry”

“Don’t let anyone know you put shit in the refrigerator.” He kept looking like he was going to throw up.

“Too late. I put it on Facebook”

“There is absolutely no hope for you.” He made a gagging face.

Ray and I decided that we didn’t want to stay where we weren’t appreciated so we went home.

I didn’t start breathing normally until this morning when Ray seemed better and ate his eggs.

Maybe later I’ll invite David over for some chocolate pudding.

Ya know how everyone in a family has a descriptive tag that follows them through life, maybe only in the family?

Well I’m one of four sisters. In order of age, Iris was the smart sister, Phyllis was the pretty sister, Marcia was the sweet sister, and, since nothing jumped out when they labeled me, I was the baby.

Marcia was six years older than me and I became her responsibility. Not only because my mother was playing cards a lot but also because my mother was a little scary. Marcia, the sweet sister, was the one I clung to.

Even as a kid I knew her sweetness could be used as a weapon. We slept in the same room in twin beds but that wasn’t close enough for me. I wanted to sleep in the bed with her.

Every night would start out with me asking to get in her bed and her saying no. I’d beg, “please please please etc” until she’d pick up her covers and I’d jump in.

Sometimes she’d hold out so I had to take out the big guns. I would lie on top of my blankets and shiver. Most people would just ignore me because all I had to do to stop shivering was get under the covers.

That certainly wouldn’t have worked with the pretty sister and the smart sister but they were already teen agers and mostly ignored me and Marcia who was way too sweet to let me shiver the night away.

Marcia always took care of me, mostly willingly. She’d buy me easter baskets and hide them, a strange thing for a jewish family that had a kosher home but my mother never noticed.

She was also responsible for my Christmas.

One year I begged her to show me what she got me for Christmas.  She didn’t want to but see the bed thing above.

She told me it would ruin the surprise. I insisted that it wouldn’t so she stood at the top of the stairs and showed me the twin dolls that she bought me.

Naturally I told her that now that I had nothing to look forward to we might as well forget the holiday all together.

When she was in high school she had a boyfriend, Bob. Or rather we had a boyfriend Bob since she had to take me on most of her dates. On Fridays we’d go to a drive in. I particularly liked that. Poor Bob thought I’d accept sitting in the back seat but as I explained to him, and Marcia backed me up, I wouldn’t enjoy the movie if I had to stretch my neck to see over them.

I’m thinking now as I look back at all this (and it’s only the tip of the iceberg) I might well be labeled the bitch sister.

I adored Marcia. I still count as one of the worst days of my life when Marcia went away to college. I cried for days.

Well today is the sweet sister’s birthday. I love her and owe her so much. More than I can ever repay.

Happy Birthday Sweet Sister.

I

Ray is ecstatic. My sister Marcia is visiting . He’s so in love with her that he follows her all over the house.

(If you notice my sister is wearing wool socks in my house because the terrace door is open and she’s freezing.)

I will admit that he’s guilty of acting out and showing off around her.

I’m having fun too. but I know how to behave when there’s company. I entertain.

All last night we watched the video over and over of Paul Simon  singing “Late In The Evening” with Steve Gadd playing great and looking hot and the sweet smile of the late Richard Tee bringing tears to my eyes. The joy they all had playing together was great to see.

I guess I have to thank my ex husband dave. Without him I wouldn’t know all these wonderful musicians, some of whom still talk to me.

I was lucky to be around to witness so many beautiful musical moments. For example, in the 70’s dave’s band played at The Five Spot which was the quintessential jazz club of the time. Musicians from all over town would come to see them.

One night I was sitting with the band during a break when one of them noticed a pretty girl cello player. She was sitting with some friends and she happened to have her legs spread apart while she was talking to them.

The sax player in dave’s band looked over and mumbled thoughtfully, “So that’s what it looks like without the cello.”

Maybe that doesn’t count as a major musical moment but who am I?  Tolstoy?

I was on my computer today voting on the TMZ Poll, as I do most mornings, trying, as the people say, to make my vote count.

For example, to the question “Who was better off, Mariah or Nick?”, I didn’t just pick the one I liked better but I really weighed the two.

Mariah would always be successful but Nick got much further in show business by being married to Mariah so I had to pick Nick.

And whether Bieber and Selena were a good match or should move on? A no brainer, move on.

I think it was the self satisfied feeling I got in completing the poll that made me stop and think.

I might be dumb.

All my life the people close to me have always said that they couldn’t believe the TV shows I watch and the books I read because I’m so smart.

My friend Liz, at her own expense, put a smart people’s book on my Kindle because she was convinced that once I got a taste of something of quality I’d realize that I’m wasting my time reading mysteries and People magazine.

I read the book, well half of it, because I was bored shitless.

And David suggested that I watch “TheRoosevelts” because…. I don’t know why. He’s always calling me a half wit so I really should have left him out of this.

(I actually did watch the part about Eleanor but when they moved on to the rest of the family I quickly changed the channel to “Mob Wives” to ‘clean my palate’.)

Anyway I’ve always accepted the smart label because who wouldn’t?

But when the facts are examined, I never did that well in school, I certainly didn’t make much of myself. I don’t watch “Love and Hip Hop” ironically. I really get steamed at those people.

It’s hard to reevaluate your life at 71. To realize that you aren’t the person you always thought you were takes some real deep thinking.

Fortunately I’m too dumb for that so I’ll just shrug my shoulders and see what’s on “Gossip Cop”

I’m a bit of a scientist.

I leave my terrace door open every night because I don’t want my dog to have one moment of discomfort. If he has to “you know what” while I’m sleeping I want him to be able to do it.

But since it’s been really cold, 10 degrees,  don’t ask how cold my apartment is, I started thinking.

What if he sleeps through the night and I’m freezing my ass off for nothing? Hence my experiment.

I closed the terrace door. Ray and I went to bed at our usual time. But I kept waking up every few hours to see if he left the room. Nope he didn’t.

That is until at 4 a.m. He crawled out from under the covers, stretched and jumped off the bed.

I quietly followed him. He slowly walked into the living room and stood in front of the closed door with a puzzled look on his face.

I ran over and opened the door and he went out, did his business and came back. He also paused at his empty bowl so I put some food in it. He ate and we went back to bed and slept til 8.

I could have waited another night because there were clues left that would have permitted me a decent night’s sleep

Oh yes and

Je Suis Charlie

Today is my birthday and I’m really happy.

The celebrating started last night when David called and asked me to come over.

When I got there his apartment was all decorated with balloons and a Happy Birthday Mattie banner across the living room. A lovely pie with candles was on the table because he knows I love pie.

Either that or we were sitting there and he was showing me a chart that he and some of the dopes in his office had made explaining graphically why my family is nuts when I said “Tomorrow’s my birthday”

“It is?”

“Yep”

“Okay let’s send out. Dinner’s on me”

See? He’s not all bad.

Then we rented a movie, again on his dime, “The Equalizer”. He’d already seen it but he wanted to rewatch Denzel kill people with hand tools.

A perfect evening.

Today is starting out great too.

I had some presents to open that my nieces and nephews sent me.

I must give special mention to a magic cup that Steph and Laura gave me. It looks like a night scene in the woods but when you put something hot in it the woods come to life.

Before:

After:

I have a wonderful day planned.

First I am going to my Shrink because I’m out of crazy pills.

Then home to hug my dog and play with my garbage can.

Then wine and cheese from Oregon.

THEN a fancy dinner with Julie and her sweet boyfriend Dan. We’re going to a restaurant that I’ve always wanted to go to.

I’m going to put curlers in my hair for this. I want to look extra nice.

I’m thinking a flip will turn heads.

The new year has begun.

David is back from Santa Fe so I have a drinking buddy again.

He emailed me yesterday from Liz’ house to ask me to tape a football game for him. When I looked at his DVR it was 80% full. I was worried that the game wouldn’t tape so I called him to ask if I should cancel some of the 1950 shit that he has taped. I kid you not, “Rawhide” was one of them and probably the most recent.

His response, “Just mind your own business and tape what I tell you to tape. Leave the rest of it alone.”

Unfortunately he was on speaker phone and my sister Marcia was in the room. Like she doesn’t hate him enough for calling her an idiot for being against fracking. Oh yeah and the racial and religious bigotry doesn’t exactly endear him to her either.

Even Liz screaming at him in the background “She’s doing you a favor, stupid” didn’t help.

I am her baby sister after all. I think I actually saw smoke coming out of her ears.

I didn’t think anything of it myself because he’s never really nice but he has one very useful trait. He truly doesn’t give a shit what I write about him in my blog.

But maybe I should insist that he start treating me with respect or he can just find someone else to pick up his mail and rifle through his private papers when he travels.

Well New Years Eve wasn’t exactly the way I planned.

I was counting on going to Montauk to bring 2015 in with Susan and Allan. It wasn’t to be.

My niece Laura had an operation on her foot that turned out to be more painful than she expected. I just wanted to hold her.

Stephanie picked her up and brought her to her house so that I could go up and rub her head. She likes that.

She said that next to her mother, my sister Iris, I was the second best head rubber in the world.

In spite of her delicate condition I was forced to remind her that her mother being dead pushes me up a notch. She couldn’t disagree.

Anyway the day before New Year’s Eve I packed up my suitcase and my dog and left for Newtown Ct. I was staying the night.

It’s an hour and a half ride with no traffic made extra enjoyable by Ray sobbing and looking out the window the whole time. My Montauk house is 3 hours away, again with no traffic, that will surely be a trip from hell.

Once we got there it was great. Raymond truly enjoys most of his cousins. The 2 cats and 2 dogs are favorites.

Here he is with Lucy.

But the horses and donkeys piss him off no end. He screams at them whenever they look his way.

It was a nice change of pace for him but he’s a city dog at heart. While his cousin Theo watched for trespassers he anxiously wished that someone there recognized that when lunch is late he just isn’t himself.

After a lovely run in the woods Ray and I returned to the City for New Years Eve. And yes he cried all the way home.

I brought in the New Year with Julie’s boyfriend since she was still visiting her parents. I really had fun with him.

Ray would have joined us but he refused to get out of bed. I think I heard him mumbling something like “Why would anyone want to live so far from a McDonald’s ???”