When the truth is that I have never been more hinged.

I’m finding  qualities in myself in quarantine that I never knew I had.

Maybe they were always there and lying in a ball and singing that great hit of my youth “Kookie Kookie lend me your comb” in a mouse voice over and over again just brought it out in me.

To be totally honest I’ve never been that much of a housekeeper but now I’m an absolute clean freak.

For example I looked at my dining room table and said to myself.

“This just won’t do. I’ve got to bring some order to this”

Well I put on my apron and voila!

Out went the bottle of Advil.

In an attempt at modesty I know I should say I wasn’t much in the cooking department before but that just wouldn’t be true.

Even in these stressful times I’ve been able to give Debby and myself nutritious and appealing meals.

Why just last night I prepared my famous Chicken A La Dreck, a favorite of my ex husband.

A little ketchup and this dish is to die for.

*Recipe on request

And now….you guessed it ..Zen

Did I say “painted”?

I meant “went in”.

It was only to get to the kitchen but it counts.

I already had a tragedy today.

I was in the kitchen , and the living room, to make my morning coffee.

I will admit the pot felt a little light but , well…. but.

While it was brewing I went back into the living room on my way to the bedroom (I gotta get a fit bit)

At the appropriate time I returned to the kitchen, by now you know the way, and smelled what seemed like burnt something.

Naturally I assumed I was having a stroke.

I had heard you smelled something burning when you were having a stroke. I thought it was toast but who am I, Louis Pasteur?

Well I’ll cut to the chase. My sister just told me she’s bored to tears with people telling her how they’re dealing with this flu so I’ll cut it short.

I forgot to put water in the pot.

AND THE BEST POT IN THE UNIVERSE WAS FOREVER BROKEN.

Luckily I had this new fangled thing that I bought for company and I made coffee with that.

Boring? Yes.

But more important I’m going to forward this post to Governor Cuomo so he can include it in his next briefing to comfort the State and the Nation that they can ease off on being careful of the “Greatest Generation” because it isn’t the virus that’ll get them. It’s being in the house alone with no one there to ask “Did you put water in that pot?”.

Oh and also they can be easily hoodwinked.

Now. Zen

Well so much for doing a water ballet in the bathtub.

I hit my head twice.

I’ve been trying and trying to cheer up the world while giving a bit of happiness to myself.

I gotta say I’m failing on both fronts.

Once I saw that that applause wasn’t for me I just lost the will to entertain.

Now I know how Jimmy Kimmel feels with no audience.

I mean he’s got a wife and kids. All I have is this fuckin’ dog who demands a hot meal every night.

I’m eating a cheese sandwich and she’s chomping down on chicken a la fond.

And let me say that that guy yelling “Shut your pie hole fat ass” really stung.

You just try singing and dancing without a bass player.

Well let me tell you. This can’t last forever. Sooner or later we’re gonna be let out of our houses.

I’ve pretty much honed in on which apartment this guy lives in and he’s in for a big surprise when I get out of here.

Let me say he’s not going to be happy when there is a paper bag on fire outside his door and he’s forced to stamp it out.

Let’s just say Debby will be leaving him a little present.

Now when I say I’ve “pretty much” honed on his apartment. I know the floor but it could one of two buildings.

So if I”m wrong excusez-moi to whoever lives there. My bad.

Maybe this will help you all in your shuttered in state…Zen

Stay safe.

Okay now this has gone far enough.

I’m getting too depressed to dance.

I know many of you feel the same way. But to be honest very few of you were anywhere near the dancer I was.

I wake up in the middle of the night thinking thinking thinking.

I remember things I’ve done or said through my life that still give me the willies.

I’ll give you one example. Get ready for a humble brag.

I was in the studio with he who shall not be named when Grover Washington Jr. came in.

He said he had just been on the phone with Donny Osmond. I acted surprised.

He had an interesting response. He said Donny was a terrific musician and a great guy.

It seemed like Grover and I were really hitting it off.

Without looking into the studio he recognized the drummer and named him.

I asked Grovie, that’s what I was calling him then since we were getting tight,

“How can you tell a drummer just by hearing him play?”

(I want to take this moment to apologize to every drummer I know but you all know what an asshole I am)

Now if I had stopped there our friendship would have blossomed into maybe sleepovers and phoney phonecalls.

BUT that is not my way.

If I may quote my ex husband, he spent our whole marriage rebuilding all the bridges I’ve burnt.

So in my need to bond with Grovie , shortly to be “Mr. Jr” to me, and show him that I wasn’t just a pretty face, I said

“Gee I wouldn’t be able to recognize any musician just by hearing them play

(now here it comes)

” Well maybe Dave Sanborn”

I saw him blink and a little light went out of his eyes.

Now in my defense I had no idea that he and Dave Sanborn played the same instrument.

For all I knew they were both tuba players

Who am I Lawrence Welk ?

But even I knew that those days of pillow fights and pajama parties for me and Mr. Jr. were over.

My life is so filled with stories like that.

In fact one of the things that kept me awake last night was my last post giving my address and asking for gifts.

You know that was  joke right?

Well maybe not the real jewelry.

And come to think of it I do look fabulous in yellow.

Well anyway……Zen

I’ve been so busy caring for everyone else and trying to lift their spirits that I didn’t realize that I too am suffering.

I sit here alone at 200 east 58th Street Apt 18A, New York, N.Y. 10022 (just in case anyone feels the need to show a little gratitude) with just my dog and my TV.

I look excellent in any  shade of yellow and I’m a sucker for good jewelry and plants. (Thank you Mary)

I have to admit that it’s getting harder and harder to keep my chin up. But I am trying.

I’ve decided to use this time, this ME time, to set aside a part of the day when I’m not lifting the spirits of the world around me (that, if you read my last post, the world is not as grateful as I thought it was ) to improve myself.

I’ve decided to teach myself Greek.

Of course I don’t know any Greek but neither does anyone else so if I just teach myself words that sound greek like “efideckanal” that should do.

I’ve also decided that 13 meals a day leave me little or no time to improve myself and be there for others so no in between meal snacks.

I also got to thinking that when I was in Camp Highmount or Camp Ma-Ho-Ge, I’m not sure which since my parents couldn’t get rid of me fast enough, I was part of a water ballet to “Old Cape Cod”

I remember most of it.

“If you’re fond of sand dunes and salty air” and jump. “Quaint little villages here and there” backstroke. and so forth.

Well I don’t have a pool but I do have a bathtub.

Just sayin’ I’ve done more with less.

And lest I forget….Zen or working on her tan.

And I admit it.

It seems that the applause I heard from my neighbors every night was not for me.

I can’t say I wasn’t dismayed to find that out especially since my already remarkable talent had reached almost a leading lady status (I use the word “almost” in all modesty)

To make it doubly painful, this news was very cruelly relayed to me by my niece Julie Rose Klam. Usually a fan.

But you can see why I would think otherwise.

I’ve been working tirelessly to provide entertainment to cheer up those shut ins within sight or sound of my terrace.

Even injuring myself at times. You all remember that turned ankle.

And if that Cup O’ Noodles hadn’t been cooled off on it’s flight down one story I was risking severe burns on several occasions.

However I soldiered on.

But as was told to me (very rudely, I might add ) that nurses, doctors and delivery people who care for those infected or trying not to be deserve applause too. (I added the “too”. It seems Julie wouldn’t even give me that)

Like Bob Hope did NOTHING for those soldiers during the war.

Anyway after I sulked for a few days my almost saintly self picked herself up and joined in.

Yes people I ended my performance a bit earlier so that I could partake in the gratitude that was shown (in part) for those tireless workers on the front lines.

People were applauding, as was I, and banging pans, as wasn’t I, in thanks.

Plus it had a side benefit.

I could barely hear the guy from 20C who took it upon himself to scream “Shut your pie hole fat ass” every fuckin’ night..

Now Zen

Stay safe.

I want to preface this by telling youse (the plural of you to those outside of NYC) that I am not a doctor.  I do have a BA in Fine Arts however and that is more than useful in these hard times.

As I said I am not a doctor nor do I read anything boring but I’ve picked up quite a bit of knowledge in these 76 years.

When I see or hear something useful I put it right in my brain hole to be used at some later date.

I spent many an hour watching “Marcus Welby M.D.”, “Ben Casey” and even  “Dr Quinn , Medicine Woman”.

I even watched a little “E.R” but as my age put me that much closer to the Grim Reaper I sort of lost my taste for medical shows.

Luckily my brain hole was pretty full so that didn’t matter so much.

I’ve therefore picked up some useful tools that will keep you safe during this Pandemic.

1. Do not Jog.

And not for the reason these talking head have been giving you, not spreading the virus yadda yadda.

It’s because most of the people who jog are Jews and Nazis throw pebbles in jogging paths to trip them.

Which is why I, being Jewish, stopped jogging in 1967.

All you goyem, have at it.

2. Do not share or partake in anyone else”s food.

This is self explanatory.

Cooties.

As I’ve told my friend Susan on numerous occasions “Susan if I wanted a bite of your squid I would have ordered it.”

The reason I really say this to Susan so many times is because the girl rarely orders anything I like.

If it ain’t a salad with almost no dressing it don’t have her name on it.

3. Get a pet.

I am presently in the process of teaching Debby to dial 911 if I look a little woozy.

So far she’s only gotten to th 9 and the 1. Then she fucks it up with a 7.

It’s a work in progress.

I’m sure there’ll be more tips to come but right now.

Zen.

Obviously things aren’t the same.

Since I’ve always considered myself a leader, mainly in the past few weeks, I’ve decided to let you know how I’ve been handling stuff so you can maybe take some tips from this and use the ones that apply to you.

Particularly if you are or have a dog.

I’ve always been kind of devil may care when it comes to rules.

For example I know that the Debster likes to eat in bed.

I can’t tell you how often I’ve gotten under the covers only to find a day old chunk of hamburger or a bite size piece of last week’s pizza by my feet.

Well there’s a new Sheriff in town.

Some of my new rules may seem overly strict, even maniacal but they are necessary in these times that we are forced to live in and we must adapt.

So now each night before I go to sleep I pull back the sheet and remove the chicken ala king or whatever she has stowed there and put it ON TOP OF THE COVERS.

Speaking of covers I’ve decided to limit the number of chew sticks etc that Debby needs to bring to bed to 25.

You may have noticed that much of Debby’s down time, as does mine, takes place on my bed and I can’t say she’s accepted this pleasantly. I might even suggest there’s an “attitude”.

Also I’ve limited the TYPES of food she can bring to bed.

Yoghurt has become persona non grata since she put the half empty container in my shoe.

I told you. I’m getting tough.

But it isn’t all bedlam (see what I did there? BED-lam).

She also uses the bed for other things.

And THAT my dears is your moment of zen.

Stay safe.

I got an email from my landlord today that there are 2 Corona Virus victims in the building.

One of them better not be me or this war effort of mine will take a definite hit.

You all know how much I love my Super, Lester.

Something happened earlier in the year that effected us both.

One of the tenants was found naked and unconscious in his/her apartment by me.

Naturally Lester was there when we ushered in the paramedics.

I promised him on that day that I would never be in my apartment naked again so he would not have the trauma of seeing me in that condition should the worst happen.

I assured him that I would even wear clothes in the shower where the possibility of slipping on the soap was an ever present danger.

I’ve kept that promise.

But the present situation has made me amp that promise up.

Previously I was very casual about what I wore, especially in the shower.

Maybe a pair of slacks that needed washing anyway.

Or last years model from Gucci that I wouldn’t be caught dead in on the street (See what I did there?).

But now that death is literally at my kitchen door as my last “gift” to Lester I’m really upping what I’m wearing around the house.

Today it’s a sequin number with a side split in royal blue.

Yesterday short shorts with an off the shoulder midriff top.

Wait a minute I have to cut this short.

I’m pretty sure I have my wedding dress somewhere in the back of the closet.

But first…Zen

As most of you know I get the majority of news on Facebook, TMZ and Twitter.

(Actually I only check Twitter sporadically because those people are a bit S-N-O-O-T-Y.)

Well the other day I read something on Facebook that I hope and pray was true. I think it was from either Tom “Bones” Malone or Will Lee.

It said that they were hard at work on a cure for the virus in the White House and that everyone should send their stool samples to:

The White House

1600 Pennsylvania Avenue NW

Washington, DC 20500

At first my heart soared with hope but then I wondered if someone was playing the rascal.

So I decided to get to the bottom of this.

As I might have mentioned, I mention so many things, president trump used to live in my neighborhood, New York.

I decided to use that card in reaching him directly and getting to the bottom of this.

I got right through.

Now I always thought he was stupid, a liar, racist, a narcissist, insane and did I say dumb? I guess stupid covers that.

Anyway I got a slightly different opinion when I spoke to him.

I can’t quote directly but here’s the gist of what he said.

He’s fed up with these so called “doctors” pussy footing around instead of developing a cure for this pandemic. (He did giggle behind his hands when he said “pussy”)

So he and the My Pillow guy put their heads together and decided to make one themselves.

He picked the My Pillow guy because he had gotten a B= in Biology in his high school in Utah or wherever.

True He had killed a cat but I think that’s only because his high school ran out of frogs.

He said they were really making headway (he giggled again at “head”) but they needed more doody (another giggle).

I can only give you the information. Do with it what you will.

BTW it takes 2 stamps.

Now Zen

Stay safe.