About five years ago I was standing outside a store. Two executives from a supermarket chain had just walked out of it and were talking. I know they were from this chain because they loudly mentioned it. Never hear my cell when I’m on Broadway. People have to be screaming for me to hear the conversation.

The executives were overly huffed with tres stupid pride as they stood outside their limo.
“This store. It’s so dirty. The aisles are too close together. The vegetables don’t look right….”

They went on and on talking about all the reasons the customers would desert that store for their modern supermarket chain.

“Fools,” I thought, this is Fairway. Haven’t you done the slightest research?”

The “new” supermarket is going out of business, I think. Was in it to buy an extension cord. Wouldn’t have bought anything half-fresh as the seafood department and other fresh food departments were closed.

Fairway has opened new stores on Long Island, and Red Hook, Broadway. They already had the Fairway super store in Harlem. Fairway purposely makes the aisles small, and dirty. But the fresh food turns over constantly. It was called the best source for store sushi by a large New York magazine; and it’s probably true because they have to keep making it.

There’s a moral to this but I’m not sure what it is. It’s difficult for me to blog and to make the rounds this week.

To the people who were four tables away from us at Sarabeths, your conversation about mortgage brokers might have been fascinating to you, but….

Wednesday I will have the stitches taken off. Because it’s been a two year process and my teeth looked okay, I don’t feel the sense of accomplishment having dental implants should give me.

Maybe it’s something that I have to get used to. It’s difficult for me not to be hard on myself because I’m just so good at it…

It’s supposed to be sunny on Wednesday July 5th. Really tried today. I was impressed.

It was a gray and dismal day that made the mold farm that is my head and brain hurt. Yet, she just realizes, I didn’t think once of taking an Oxycontin though they’re in the first drawer on the night table. I have an eight drawer night table, on the theory that a person, especially me, can never have enough drawers. Not wanting a pain killer means that i can safely cross “pain killer” off possible addictions that I will get if I stay in New York. Unless of course I have to be on painkillers for an extended…

Was totally and thoroughly miserable all day. If I had the living room AC on high enough to take out the humidity, I froze, but if it were lower…I thought the new do everything for you Ac’s were supposed to eliminate that problem and hot spots.

Around five o’clock I noticed that the sun wa coming out for the first time in four days. Maybe it had been out Thursday but my sister and I thought it wasn’t going to be, can’t remember. This was just after my shower, that’s how lazy, yet not fun watch movies and eat ginger ice cream or soy snacks lazy, I was today. Sat at the computer and verbally beat myself up for not being productive or going to the movies, which sadly enough would have counted as productive.

I forgot that there was a special show tonight in Central Park, consisting of Broadway songs sung by Broadway stars. I’m not a Broadway showtune lover, but there are some, and it’s free, and kind of fitting for the night after the Gay Pride Parade. It might have been a really fun evening. But I didn’ learn about it until I cut across the park last week on my way home from the dentist and by then I knew that it was supposed to rain from the next day until forever.

Weather.com just gave a much more optimistic report than it did this morning.

I was feeling sorry for myself and turning off the computer when I heard fireworks. I could see the reds, blues, different greens and an attempt at lavender I think

I have to just frigging get out when the sun comes out. Could tell the fireworks were beautiful. Know my friends wouldn’t want to go because the ground is wet or something like that, but we circumevented that problem years ago with spongable table cloths, and now we have statidum chairs–I personally have two kinds, low to the ground, and regular chair size. Sometimes when I need seating for fifteen–once every other year–I drag it out.

Something you didn’t know about me unless you’re Lucia and a few other people: I have collected beach chairs forever. Am better now, since I have five beach chairs in my one six by twelve closet with many drawers of course. Okay I have seven more plus outdated but nice thermoses in my downstairs storage area. Having a storage locker in a Manhattan coop is like winning a lottery.

Better, actually. I have a whole other room in my building’s basement. Well it’s a metal cage and really to small to sleep in, plus the basement’s prone to floods and I have lost many many books, but…it’s less than $50 a month, and I just have to get on the elevator. Don’t talk about it much, it would be like bragging.

When people ask I drag out the answer. They might have the giant apartment, the kids, the great job, but I have what most Manhattanites covet. The large storage cage in the basement.

First Bone went on vacation but should be back shortly. He left his fish Pablo so that people could ask questions about Bone. Somebody asked if Bone is his real name. That person took our question. Maybe somebody would like to ask a follow-up question that we don’t dare ask: “Why does he keep that name?” It’s not like it’s a common name that nobody dare make fun of like say Pia

Patriotic Cowgirl’s having a quasi-rant because a horse is not just a horse. And MizB’s daughter just graduated kindergarten. When MizB talks about a kindergarten graduation it’s like no kindergarten graduation you have ever been to.

More seriously, Cooper not Alice has a post on Darfur at BC. Two quick comments on that. I haven’t posted at BC for a long time. Don’t know when they put the “no personal attacks” on comments but I could have used that nine months ago when I seriously got almost 400 comments, most attacking me. Personally I feel horrible that Cooper feels marginalized at another blog I know well. One of the original intents of that blog was to make all people feel welcome. When somebody like her choses to write for a blog, the blog should just let her fly–and truly monitor the comments. All comments.

Shayna has a link to 2996 The number of people who were killed on 9/11. D Challener Roe came up with a brilliant idea to honor the life of people who died that day. Each person who participates will be given the name of one person who died and will write about that person on 9/11–the Fifth Anniversary of the saddest day, and I feel so not correct for not saying except for Katrina, in modern American history.

As I have previously stated my personal hero is the man who stayed behind because his disabled office mate couldn’t make it down the stairs. I hope his family takes some measure of solace in knowing how selfless he was. This is a non-partisan effort. Please keep it that way. I hope that someday soon 9/11 will be a National Day of Remembrance.

Plugging is one of the best parts of blogging to me. The blogosphere came together during Katrina; we can again.

If you haven’t read the post below this, I share the secret to unraveling the universe, or putting it back together.

Dear Blog
Why did we just spend an hour wondering why the living room had become so hot? We thought of every dire possibility: an infection from the oral surgery was our primary concern; then we thought about hot flashes something we have been told about in graphic detail; then we thought about a strange form of mad cow or other dementia’s that first make a person feel hot and humid; of course there is the always dreaded retribution from Home Depot and the shipping company that calls each weekday with a recorded announcement to call another number. Read more…

A link to a new video at BIO Yes they used the magic word “Rovian” in the teaser, so I….It’s great. Well, “Rovian” is a good variant of the magic word. Don’t mean magic in a good way. Do believe in Kharma, and the Rovian will lose to the good kharma.

Personally I agree with Steve’s comment, but grassroots political blogs do impact on people.

Am still in intermittent pain from last oral surgery, and have intermittent cable service. They’re coming on Wednesday with a new box, but they think there is another problem that is causing the modem to stop working every hour or so, somtimes more. Have become an unwilling expert on cable problems in the past eight years. Think it’s probably frayed outdoor cable wire as that is what it usually is when there are low or no signal problems.

Normally I would have made a bigger deal of this and had them come tomorrow. But I’m exhausted, emotionally and physically dreined, and sometimes it does dawn on me that my dental problems are over. Sometimes. So if I’m not around blogs, I will be sometime later this week.

The more I think about the following post the more I realize how easy it is for people to be sanctiminous and say things like “I throw these things out,” when they accept paid advertising, don’t have a sidebar that looks like a billboard for causes, and don’t plug people in nearly every post.

The sad reality is that a blogs “success” has more to do with when it began, how carefully a blog links–you’re not supposed to link to too many blogs that are below you in the food chain. There are books that will teach you the tricks to becoming a Google Six and other ways to “become top ranked.”

Those are the emails that I trash, even when the person offers to teach me the tricks for free. Nothing in life or blogging comes without a price. It’s the price that we’re willing to pay that’s important to me, and I will never sacrifice my blogging freedom.

Here’s Newsweek on the subject of Kos. Just the title is scary: “Can the Daily Kos control the Dems?”

I know. I’m an alarmist not living in the real world. Only the car alarms that I blare tend to self-start long after I have I have finished blaring.

Do you want a populist blogging world where each blogger has a chance of making it? Or an elitist blogging world where only a few can rise? Because that choice is coming.

Cooper I would have loved you anyway.

Sage time traveled in the South, sort of. He talks about an incident that happened when I was very young and still makes me cry.

Here’s a link to an article in The New York Times that explains how JWT bought all the advertising on THP for a week, in an attempt to create buzz over the Internet for JWT’s clients. It’s the lamest way I have ever seen of creating buzz, and I still hold Arianna responsible as she calls herself a blogger. Never did her time in the trenches, but….her blog doesn’t let everybody comment.

Why does JWT/THP have so little respect for the “small” blogger? Why should I do anything for them without getting something in return?

Follow this link I’m not a marketing person. The link and the link it links to looks at this problem from a “viral marketing astroturfing” pov. Last week I wrote about, the sick possibility, an all volunteer Daily Kos TV network–except for Kos himself. This past week I received this.

If you think I’m making too much of this, you’re missing the broader implications of many volunteer bloggers working their tushs off for a few people to profit. Have a link in a bit to Arianna at the Cannes Ad Festival. She spits in the face of every grassroots blogger.

Blogging is new. It can go in many directions. It can be the first meritocracy in publishing. It can also have ten stars and everybody else “volunteer” blogging for ten people who get rich. I won’t be a “volunteer” for them. Nor will I be one of the ten stars.

I put too much into my work to let other people profit from it. If you want to gloat in a comment about how you received an email and trashed it–don’t. That’s the blogging equivalant of not reporting an empty package in New York. The point is to make people aware of this–it could be a new and disturbing trend—without linking to her too much.
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What’s wrong with this quote? It’s most of an email that I received from somebody at the Huffington Post.. Don’t know how many other bloggers got this or some variant of it. Hope that you don’t feel flattered but potentially taken advantage of.

Came across your blog looking for top sites on aging/generational issues–you have a really great site! While I don’t think you’re particularly among the elderly demographic, you might find this clip from Poet Laureate Billy Collins’ poem “Forgetfulness” interesting (and hopefully something you’d be willing to share with your readers). The poem is about getting older and forgetting things, and it’s pretty poignant. It’s part of a new ad campaign by JWT for the Huffington Post (trying to make ads more like content).

The Huffington Post says that it’s a blog, or at least part of it. It began on May 9, 2005 and is ranked 9 on Technorati and 20 on TTLB. I have written a lot on blogging and on how blogs become and stay “big.” Arianna‘s blog is the exception to every rule.

Unlike the rest of us Arianna has limitless resources, and has used it on Huffington I like it. But it’s not a blog. When was the last time you had JWT do your ad campaign?

So clever how the ad looks like content. The video and poem are both beautiful. Damn if I’m going to play it without getting something equally significant in return. “Oh those pesky bloggers.” Straight out of Arianna’s mouth. In another context. Please read it. It’s unintentionally hysterical as it’s about recreating advertising to meet the needs of the new consumer, and how we’re “witnessing the Rise of the Creatives.”

Yeah from the sweat, pores and labor of the regular blogger

Why do I dare say this? I’m a grassroots blogger. When I first began I had no idea what the hell I was doing, but I met a lot of people. We helped each other begin. I was fortunate to meet Tom Baker the blogger formerly known as The Cranky Liberal, and our Duke Dawg Doug early in “our blogging careers.” I bring them up, in particular, because both were the catalysts for two distinct blogging communities with different goals and purposes. Many of the people overlap into both communities.

My two favorite expressions: “I delete not debate on Courting. Go to BIO.” Not that I’m planning to debate but somebody will. and “steal the dawg’s blogroll.”

With little money but much much time Tom, the Dawg and I have created amazing communities. I don’t debate because I don’t have the time. I have blogged in up to four blogs at a time. This was the closest week I came to taking off from blogging in going on 20 months. And only because I fell apart physically after a minor oral surgery. I have undergone five more major ones and blogged that afternoon. Arianna has also said “that Internet rewards obsessives.”

I’m waiting. Does she really believe that bloggers like me want to help make her richer, and will be so happy to run her ads? Why sure Arianna, I live to give myself more work so that somebody else can profit.

It’s a little different than helping a new blogger meet people, and show them the technicalities. Blogging, to me, is about bringing people together. My posts tend to be long and often are researched. They might be non-linear, self-absorbed, and a myriad of other things but Courting’s rankings reflect the work that I put into it. Have taken Courting and BIO on vacations. Yes I’m obsessive. The rewards have all been intangible, and most of the time that is great, but sometimes….

Somebody left a comment who was also approached. He‘s looking at it from the advertising end. Very interesting.

My real life work, friends and family have taken a back street to blogging. Since I have received publicity and have been nominated for awards, my friends and family have me confused with somebody famous, so they’re being very understanding.

Blogging has both brought me closer to, and taken me away from my true goal–world peace. Damn I confused myself with Miss America again

BIO is a grassroots political blog that grows hourly. I’m not sure what Courting is other than a blog I made from nothing to “top ranked for a non-political, non-Christian, non-radical right personal blog.” And for a baby boomer that’s nothing short of a miracle. I don’t write baby boomer. We’ve been reminiscing since the 80′s about how great life was when we were kids and that’s grown old. I don’t do menopause or aches and pains unless of course they’re my teeth. I know that I have much to learn from people who are both older and younger than me so I remain flexible as to age.

Advertisers are so eager to embrace the younger demographics that they fail to notice how many blogs written by baby boomers are popular with younger generations. If I am, I assume….Maybe it’s me

Grassroots blogs require a lot of work. Courting is a one person show and I wouldn’t feel comfortable asking anybody to guest blog for me while I’m away. It’s not that important to the rest of the world. It’s priceless to me.

In the past few months people have sent me resumes, problems to solve, asked if I would “share” this book with my readers when I don’t have the time to read the books I want to read. I understand these requests. Might be powerless or not want to help, but that’s the price a “successful” blogger pays.

That’s just it. Most “successful” bloggers pay, if not much in dollars, too much in hours. These hours multiplied by the pay the blogger gets or had been getting for real life jobs can come out to quite a hefty number.

Most bloggers who tell me that I complain about everybody but the blogger making money off it aren’t serious bloggers. BIO and I have both prove that we having staying power. We have the blogging chops. This isn’t a hobby to us, it’s a job. It’s a job that we love and it has its many magical intrinsic rewards. But it’s a lot of work. Any blogger who says it isn’t, puts in fluff or posts once a week.

Yet BIO is doing an important job, I’m not afraid to write about personal issues and how they affect me. And every body’s favorite Dawg now has several generations of pups.

Is there anything in the Huffington Post that is of and by the people? Yet they think I might want to share an advert with my readers? Are they crazy?

I have been cutting back time on Courting and am only on rotation once a month at BIO. While I would love to blog full time on Courting and BIO , I have a personal goal and dream that blogging has taught me isn’t a delusion.

Comments designed to get a rise out of me stopped doing that sometime ago. Has Arianna ever seen comments that insult every part of her? Would she understand what I was talking about? Don’t really think so.

From where I sit, and it’s usually in front of a computer monitor, Arianna is acting like the Empress who asks the servant to clean the kitchen fully once again because Arianna dropped some crumbs.

Any blogger who knows me knows that I don’t ask for favors. That I put my money where my mouth is, literally and cause wise.
When I read Arianna’s comments about “The Rise of the Creatives,” I did laugh. Then I became angry. Because this isn’t the Renaissance, and I’m not going to spend endless hours painting detail while somebody else gets the credit.

I want what she’s have having because I deserve it. Courting and I came out of nowhere. Yet here we are

On a personal note, I have little faith in TTLB because it fluctuates so much. But I had a personal goal that I didn’t talk about. James Dobson and I were neck-in-neck. It feels so great to beat a member of the radical right. That’s a blogger’s intrinsic satisfaction. But it doesn’t pay the bills. I don’t do ads on Courting. I would rather pay her expenses myself and feel free to plug who I want to when I want to. Plugging and linking are good things that bloggers can do for each other. They help keep the playing fields level and eventually make new ones.

Have watched both my Technorati and TTLB change so often that I don’t take them seriously. Some people would say that I can afford to say that. Am nowhere near Arianna’s rankings. And I had a real interview with George Clooney that I just didn’t think was up to standards.

I very much appreciate every positive thing that has been said about me. I’m a writer. Any publicity is good publicity. I almost didn’t write this because I didn’t want to give The Huffington Post any.

Who am I but the Peasant Girl patiently waiting by Arianna’s side for more orders? Screw that.

Today’s the first full day of my new life. Finally have the teeth nature intended me to have. To the rest of the world my teeth were fine. To me they were small, yellow, and in constant need of care.

I had stress induced dry mouth from the time I was a young child.. I finally figured out that it was the cause of my problems because nothing else made sense. Medications actually helped alleviate it because I wasn’t tense all the time anymore.

Never knew until yesterday that Listerine is horrible for people with dry mouth, and I’m a Listerine junkie. Love the taste, swishing it around my mouth and keeping it there. It always felt as if I were killing all the germs. Didn’t realize that I was killing the teeth.

I can’t believe that I’m talking about my teeth in my blog and that people have been so wonderful. That’s one of the great things about blogging. I can talk about the really horrible without fear of being judged. The morally wrong don’t count.

I have always used writing as a way of understanding what the problem is, and being able to think of solutions. Now I can think out loud in my blog and get great support.

The pain is beginning to abate and the swelling’s going down. Can’t believe that my face didn’t swell through prior more intrusive oral surgeries. For some reason this two year tooth saga began to wear me down around the same time I received publicity.

I was burnt. Did write about that. Didn’t write about how scared I was until the last couple of weeks, I think. Almost looked up “fatal symptomless conditions that could happen while on a dentist’s chair or in the ten days afterwards.” Remembered that I’m a former SSI Claims Rep ,and am a Licensed Social Worker who specialized in geriatrics. Know them all from my careers, and my reading.

Did read everything I could on dentistry and implants. I’m very blessed because I could afford to go to the best. My very expensive health insurance doesn’t cover even a part of it. But I knew from the day I decided to do this that this was an amazing investment in myself that will pay itself back ten times.

Know more than a few people who are having extensive implants. They began before me, and will be going for a much longer time. Some even have insurance that my dentists accept. I guess people don’t want to pay a larger co-pay. I will say that my friend’s sister Denise has excellent insurance and spends as much money on jewelry and clothes as if she were the average pop star.

Dental work isn’t the place to economize on. I’m in so much pain because one of the teeth that was worked on the other day was one of the “too much work” teeth. I first had my teeth bonded in 1983 when I was 32, and…here I am the world’s first self-professed dental bulimic.

You helped me get though this. And offered empathy rather than the scorn I thought this would be received with. Though I didn’t want to I used to judge a person by his or her teeth until I couldn’t anymore.

That’s an incredible high. Thank you all so much. This is about as dramatic as my present day life gets. My youthful dramas are much more interesting.

I am so disappointed in New York’s senators for not voting for the Kerry/Feingold bill.

I wanted Hillary to be the first woman president six years ago. Unfortunately she’s been campaigning for president since she first became Senator. I can’t believe that she lacked the chutzpah to vote for that bill. Unless she’s planning a strategy move to end the war tomorrow and somehow…

Chuck’s parents live in the same eighteen hole golf course apartment complex that my Mom lived in. Would love to have been able to see my Mom going at Chuckala’s parents. According to my Mom they were stingy in the reception they made after Chuckualla was elected. Heavy on the egg salad, light on the smoked fishes.

My parents would have sprung for the all smoked fish reception, with caviar, if one of their kids were elected Senator from New York. That’s as far up the political ladder as any parent would want their kid to go now. And my parents had daughters who changed careers a lot so it really would have been a miracle.

Chuck, your parents would have gone to great lengths if they had to, to make sure that you didn’t serve in Viet Nam. No Jewish boy I knew went to Viet Nam, no matter how poor their family was.

Our grandparents had survived the pogroms and/or the Nazi’s as did many parents of baby boomers. They weren’t going to let their children and/or grandchildren die in a meaningless war. You should be a leader in this. Unless you have a plan to…

I support the Troops that are in Iraq, with all my heart. But on Tuesday I will be downtown at a rally in support of Lieutenant Eheren Watada who might face court martial because he believes that the war and occupation in Iraq is illegal. He’s the first commissioned officer to refuse to be deployed.

May the war end tomorrow, but in the meantime may more troops take courage from Lieutenant Watada and do the same.

I took back my teeth, and that sounds strange. We can take back the country. As usual, I don’t debate, I do delete, and if you want a debate go to BIO.

On Monday I will be back with a post about an experience that I just had with another political blog. I’m dying to write about it now, but….

The Ommnipotent Poobah has a very interesting, and different post up at BIO It goes along with my theme and is-well check it out. He’s funny–and comment please.

After two continuous years of dental visits, the sixth and supposedly most minor oral surgery has me looking like a prizefighter–chin area–but one with the best teeth in New York, summer edition. Has me feeling like a prizefighter who has been knocked around a few too many times. Am finally going to have my James Spader film festival. Please understand that my comments would be sub par. Won’t be commenting until the weekend I think, when I begin to feel human again.

Have a box of “Swiss Liqueur chocolate” filled with Stoli. Bought them at the drugstore because I thought I loved the box, and that the candy would be hard. As Stoli has been my vodka of choice since my 20′s thought it would be funny. The thought of biting into anything sweet is truly repulsive. Can’t figure out how they’re supposed to be eaten as the vodka streams out–sort of like a jello shot. Guess you’re supposed to share. Or I have been wrong all my life, and putting an entire square of chocolate in my mouth is acceptable. Not planning on experimenting.

William Shatner is being inducted into the TV Hall of Fame, and will be roasted on Comedy Central

I began watching The 4400 because I had to go to the Sci Fi event for it where I met some people who told me about their encounters with aliens. One backed Lucia’s assertion that more people are abducted where Webers used to be on Broadway near West 72nd Street than any other place because it was so crowded. She had heard that on the Sci Fi channel several months before the event at The Regency where all the drinks had the iridescent faux blue ice cubes that look so garish with diet coke.

She had also heard that all of Broadway is prime alien picking country, and did lock her windows, and do more to stop aliens from attacking her and/or Little Luce, since their building fronts Broadway. As I live two Avenues west, I wasn’t worried. However many people who live or work in my building have morphed into kinder, more gentle people in the past year. Do have to wonder.

I believe that there is a Fidelity where Webers used to be and always mean to ask if they have heard about any alien abductions. But what if they are? So much to worry about when aliens, not of the undocumented kind, posssibly enter into my life.

I didn’t know then that Joel Gretsch who plays Tom Baldwin on The 4400 is Shatner’s son in law. Have read interviews with him where he rambled on about how great a father in law and grandfather Shatner is. Some people just have all the luck.

While Shatner occupies a big space in my heart, James Spader does practically own it. Or could if I could find out where to send the key. Oh, right, first I would have to find it.

I took out the post that I had about Home Depot. I was angry. It was poorly written and didn’t make sense.

Yesterday wasn’t an easy day for me. Today was supposed to be but Fernando the doorman woke me since Home Depot delivered the AC’s I cancelled three times. Wasn’t sure the first two times took. I had him send the Ac’s back with the delivery person but this wasn’t following HD protocol.

When I tried calling HD today there was a 25 minute minimum wait. They said to go to the website. The website said to call. I sent an email and gave all pertinent information. Am not wasting a minute more on this. I did my part over and over again. Refuse to play Groundhog Day with HD.

Sunday night Lucia, Little Luce and I remembered when The Boat Basin Cafe was yet to be discovered, and we could get tables outdoors with a minimal wait. But even inside is outside as it’s an open catacomb. Always reminds me of the Coliseum in Rome, on a much smaller scale. The menu was upgraded a year or two ago, and the tuna entree was had much more zest and was way more interesting than the second to last time I was there just before the rain week.

Little Luce did her community service for the GMHC. She was on stage during the AIDS Walk. I am so proud of her. Her class presentation begins with how she has lived all her fifteen years in the apartment that Lucia and our friend, soul mate, whatever, Patrick lived in before and during his sickness. While we had dinner, Little Luce gave her presentation and we talked about Patrick who will have died 21 years ago next October 9th

Lucia was in the GMHC’s pilot support group for caregivers. Lucia gave up much of her life. Patrick was the most difficult of our friends for me. He was the closest and the first. But I learned.

During Gay Pride Month please think of all the straight women who nursed Gay men during their sicknesses.

I think of Riverside Park as my country club and The Boat Basin Cafe is the clubhouse. I’m in Riverside Park everyday and eat at the Boat Basin at least four or five times a week in real summer, Have been a bit preoccupied and not into going out lately.

We had walked down to the river on the South side of the West 79th Street entrance. It’s disgraceful that the stairs are rotting, sand filled with deep holes. It’s a giant law suit waiting to happen. The North side entrance has been modernized for at least two or three years.

We walked up on the North side and when we reached the top tier of the park, I smelled the faint smell of new blossoming Honeysuckle. By Wednesday it will have blossomed, and by Friday, Saturday at the latest, it will take over Riverside Drive and the park and would be cloying if it didn’t last such a short time.

My neighborhood is like no other in Manhattan. It doesn’t have the modern planned feel of Battery Park City or the strange mix of industrial zillion dollar edge on West Street–runs from Tribeca though the West Side, forget exactly where it ends. Isn’t up here.

Though I lived on the East Side, 63rd and Fifth for fifteen years, I would walk across Central Park to go to Riverside Park because it was so solitary and peaceful. The park that runs parallel to the East River was always unfriendly to me, I didn’t want to walk near cars when it was water that I needed.

Riverside Drive is long and stately. I know how rare it to live across from Park land in Manhattan yet I always have. There’s no place like New York from sometime in June to sometime in August, and then again in September and October. I am so privileged and I know it. But the yearning for amenities in my primary, or even secondary, residence keeps growing.

The Drive is mellow as is West End Avenue just to the East, but Broadway is one block from that, and I love Broadway, I do, but I yearn for a smaller scale. This weekend Broadway seemed empty to me but I knew that most people from other places would have thought it crowded.

I was at the dentist(s) for four hours today so I’m more than a bit out of it. My dentists and their staffs are incredible but by the end I felt as if I were going to throw up and pass out. probably at the same time. Took a nap, and woke up with a feeling that I have only experienced several times before.
“Oh wow, something feels different”
“I feel great.”
“My life has just changed forever and ever.”

I feel so blessed that I could do this at all, and then without incurring debt. Wow. Each day for the next month, I will feel slightly different, and have to go back on Wednesday, and I’m sure often for the next month. It’s over and I stayed the course, with only a minor meltdown this past month. I think, maybe, because I have run out of excuses.

But his two year journey did teach me patience and to measure success in small increments. Thank you, the so many of you, who have taken this with me, and wow does that feel weird and vain to write.

Now you can vote for me…Kidding. I just won my own lottery, and a few other major life battles.

Please excuse me if I don’t answer comments for a few days. Am really kind of out of it, But in a good way

I’m going for my last dental visit in two solid years of every two weeks–with some breaks for good behavior. I really really don’t like Ann Coulter. Wouldn’t like a liberal who was as nasty but don’t know of any.

Papers drop “liberals” for being offensive but Ann Coulter? Ain’t even funny. But unlike “Godless liberals,” her expression. she must have God on her side. Because she gets millions to be flat out nasty. And that’s gross.

If you wish to disparage Ann Coulter, feel free. If you wish to disparge me, remember I’m a humorless liberal, and I will use the expression that has been used so often on me “I have friends.”

Ann Coulter hasn’t lost any of her 100-plus newspaper clients, or the support of her syndicate, Universal Press Syndicate, despite her nasty remarks in her new book about 9/11 widows and her comment in an online interview implying that, perhaps, U.S. Rep. John Murtha (D-Pa.) should be “fragged.”

Why is Coulter keeping all her subscribers? “Ann’s client newspapers stick with her because she has a loyal fan base of conservative readers who look forward to reading her columns in their local newspapers,” Universal Director of Communications Kathie Kerr said in a statement, after being queried today by E&P.

Editors, she pointed out, have chosen not to run certain “Doonesbury” or “Boondocks” cartoons, which come from the liberal side of the spectrum.

The Universal columnist has also “joked” about killing other people, including Arabs, Muslims, and U.S. Supreme Court Justice John Paul Stevens, and suggested that blowing up The New York Times building might be a good idea, especially if the reporters and editors were still inside.

This began as a post about my father’s change from “Communist sympathizer to progressive to staunch Reaganite. My Mom, sister and I believe that he would have begun to change back during Bill’s impeachment. Might have shocked some sense into him Then Karl Rove was absolved of all charges, and as “they” love to say: “he must have been guilty of something,” or more. Then The Supeme Court….
I in no way mean to imply or infer that my father was “toxic.” He was multi-layered and I am that much richer for it. Our lives changed with the times. The problems that I had were physically caused though difficult to discern. My father tried harder than any 20 fathers would have. Help was hard to find. He unknowingly excaberated them, but he hurt more than I did when he realized that.

I often wonder what it was like to be a parent in the 60′s and 70′s and have absolutely no knowledge of drugs or the fast evoving My parents didn’t even really like music, and my life revolved it. They liked Carly Simon, Simon & Garfunkle, and Arlo Gurthrie, and that was about it.

They appeared sophisticated, I guess, and were truly to become early model YUPPIES, but somebody forgot to give them the guidebook to how to treat a rebellious daughter. My Dad did have friends who were “mod” and I think knew much, but weren’t going to let him know, I hope.

We tend to put the mores of today, and our new found wisdom, whatever that it is, on people of earlier decades. We tend to judge without thinking about all sides. I refuse to ever be a person to whom the world is all about me, without trying to understand the other people involved.

Saturday, July 19, 1969 was a momentous day for Ted Kennedy who would soon learn that his chances of becoming president were nil. The astronauts would land and walk on the moon the nest day. It was my nineteenth birthday.

While I wasn’t living at home, it was strongly suggested that I spend the weekend at the parental manse. Strongly suggested did equal a direct order. My parents understood that I would rather spend Saturday night with my on again, off again college boyfriend. He stood me up. Later I would learn that there were reasons, but then….I couldn’t care less about the moonwalk. I spent the night and all the next day sulking. My father and I had basically communicated through my mother for the prior four years. It was easier that way. Since the house was on four levels, I would stay on the top, my Mom in the kitchen, and my Dad on the third level in his red burlap wallpapered study. One of us would scream to my mother who would scream to the other. We did talk on family vacations and dinners out, and sometimes even enjoyed each other. We hadn’t gone out to dinner the night before because I had a date, and we couldn’t go out that night because we had to watch the moonwalk. Read more…

don’t know exactly what to call this story, or really where

to begin. Suppose that I start near the end which is a

new beginning,— for Marion and me.

The phone rang at 8 p.m. on Wednesday, November l5th. It was

our caseworker. We were waiting 4 years for this call at

last it came. She told Marion that there is a little baby girl, who is ready for adoption. Marion gripped the phone tighter,

her heart beat faster,– she let out a soft “oh”, I gathered

what the call was about, we had to sit down to control ourselves -— Marion whispered “It’s a girl” — we smiled at each other, and words were non-existent. But we both knew that we were glad that it was a girl. As a matter of fact, we realized right then and there that we really preferred a girl. The agency had asked us several times, at different interviews, whether we preferred a boy or a girl — but we never gave a definite preference.

The caseworker told us that the baby is about 3~2 months old, weighed 7 pounds, 4 ounces at birth, and had fair features. She asked us if we would like to meet the baby and get acquainted with her. We readily agreed, and arranged to meet the caseworker, tomorrow at 10 a.m., at the New Rochelle office. The whole conversation lasted a minute, her voice sounded as if she was very pleased in giving us this news.

That night — sleep was out of the question. We knew that something great was going to happen to us. Our thoughts were about the baby

ys remain that way. Now, we were in the process of adding another to us. What could this baby add to our happiness? — could there be more happiness than we have experienced? Perhaps we are inviting heartaches or aggravation! Do we really want a baby? We did not have one of our own – so we applied to a child adoption agency. This was almost 4 years ago. After filing applications, having many interviews, and having our home life studied by a case­worker, we have finally been accepted as suitable people to adopt a child. The phone call told us that they have selected s possible baby for us. Now,,, that the process of waiting and interviewing has ended, and the adoption appears close to

reality – the question on our minds, was do we really

want to go through with it? This question and others kept us tossing from side to side all during the night.

Morning finally came. It was a bright, sunny, fresh, Indian summer day. We had breakfast in a hurry. We stopped at the drug store, and bought a large rattle for the baby — we felt that we just had to bring something for the little girl.

Our car ride to New Rochelle was slow and thoughtful — at one moment glad, — and another doubtful. Question marks began to fill our minds again. What kind of a baby is she? —.fat, skinny, funny looking, good looking? Will we like her? — will she like us?? How will we be introduced to each other? Where is she kept now? — perhaps in a hospital or in an institution. When will we have to make up our minds whether or not to accept her?

We arrived at the office promptly at 10. The caseworker greeted us pleasantly and made us comfortable in a small room. She brought in a file, and using its contents as a guide, told h us more details about the baby’s background.

Some of the physical and educational details of the baby’s father and mother were told us. Also, some information about the grandparents, and the brothers and sisters of the parents. Then, we were told about the baby —-

The baby is in good health, lively, completely bald, blue eyes, chubbyish, very fair skinned, — and a special comment was made that on back of the baby’s head, is a large birthmark which may go away completely, or be covered by her hair. She informed us that the baby has been kept in a private home since birth, and was kept by a very capable woman, who has two teen-age children of her own. We listened intently. We felt fine hearing

all this, — and our anxiety to see the baby was reaching the

point of impatience.

Marion, I and the caseworker left the office at about 11, and in 15 minutes we arrived by cab in front of the house. It was an old, large, pleasant looking wooden house, situated back on a beautiful lawn of grass and trees. There was a porch along the whole length of the house. Marion and I always liked a porch on a house. The woman of the house came to the door and invited us in. The caseworker introduced us to her and the usual formal greetings were exchanged. The house was well kept and clean. It was really homey, neatly furnished with pretty curtains. The large foyer had a stairway leading upstairs, and a spacious living room adjoined the foyer. The foster mother went upstairs to prepare the baby while the caseworker ushered us into the living room.

————- The seconds seemed like years, our hearts began

to beat fast — we were excited. The question marks be;-an to haunt us again. What will we say to the baby?/ Will we meet her in the crib? What could we see through the bars? Is she

asleep? Will she cry? smile? What should we do???—-

Our mental gymnastics were interrupted by the footsteps of the

foster mother coming down the steps – and as she came into

view — we saw her carrying the baby. She was walking towards

us —- Our hearts stood still…. Nothing in us moved….

we were frozen— the baby was starring at us………….

…. Her caseworker broke the silence, telling us to take the

baby. Vie dazedly looked at each other Marion took the baby

in her arms — The caseworker ad foster mother left the room.

………………………. We were alone.—-

She was a beautiful baby, – her blue eyes pierced our hearts.., she seemed like such a good baby. We loved her immediately, — we were thrilled by her — she smiled at us, – and we cried inwardly. Such joy we have never experienced, or ever antic­ipated. The baby was in complete command of the situation, and

was at ease. She kept on smiling, kicking, and gooing WE

were frozen with happiness afraid that anything we may say

or do will melt some of it…….. She finally made us smile

back at her, coo to her, and play with her. We were warming up

to each other — and a little more at ease. I took the baby

from Marion and held her in my arms an exquisite sensation

went through my body — she was so warm, easy to handle, so Clean, so smooth, so very good. We talked and played with her — and she seemed so pleased,., she smiled continuously. We remembered the rattle, and gave it to her. She looked at it, but was not able to grasp it — we realized that it was too large for her— that she was only a little baby — we laughed heartily,— and, she laughed with us. We were having such a good time. We were

enjoying each other immensely we held her on our laps, then

over our shoulders, then we held her together, we patted her, we squeezed her, — she was so wonderfully cooperative — she,

knew that we were inexperienced…. but, she tolerated us

we were positively sure that she approved of us Time appeared

to have reversed itself,— the minutes seemed like seconds.

We kept on admiring the baby, What a good little baby] What a nice little baby What a wonderful little baby

Finally, after half an hour, the caseworker and foster mother entered the room, and they seemed pleased that the 3 of us were absorbed in each other. We told them what a wonderful time we

were having. The foster mother took the baby, and we

squeezed and patted the baby good-bye —– our eyes followed

the baby up the stairs. The caseworker asked us what we thought

of the baby — and, in no uncertain terms we said, that we

liked her very, very much… that she was a cutie-pie.

She suggested that we go back to the office. Vie took the rattle and left.

All the way back to the office we were remarking over and over again, what a happy baby she was, and that she seemed like such a good baby, also, that she was such a pretty baby —even without any hair — simply a picture of a doll. The caseworker asked us what we thought of the birthmark on the baby’s head. We admitted that we did not even look for it — it seemed so unimportant, and that we Here so busy playing with the baby.

Back at the office we were asked if we would like to see the baby again, so that we could get better acquainted; and thereby,

help us decide whether she is the baby we want…… Marion

and I answered at the same time “We only want that is baby, and we feel that she wants us.” The caseworker asked us if we are

sure of it — and in a chorus we gave a definite “YES”, and

that we want her as soon as possible. She wanted to know if vie
â– Here prepared to have things ready for the baby over the week-end.
We replied “That we were impatient and would prefer taking the
baby the next day, if possible.” “That we would spend the next
2h hours concentrating on getting things for her.”‘- ……

………………….. The caseworker smilingly agree d, — we

could have the baby tomorrow- at 10 a.m.

We left for home at 12 o’clock noon,- we were happily excited.

The next hours were spent in making room for the baby, for her crib, chest of drawers, bathenette, carriage. We also, had to run around buying these things, for immediate delivery. All of this getting ready and buying things gave us a lot of pleasure. Our friends and family gave us excellent cooperation. Everything and everybody was wonderful.

All night long we kept thinking of the baby we talked abound

her into the night,. What a happy baby. What a good baby. Such
a nice baby…………………. •

Friday was a brighter and sunnier day,, the weather was beautiful, Our breakfast consisted of orange juice, and thoughts of the baby

—– that was nourishment enough. V/e took the suggested things

for the baby,, clothes, blanket, and bottles for formula–

we also took along a new, pretty little rattle.

Our car ride to New Rochelle was fast and impatient we were

anxious to see the baby to hold her again — to smile at her

– to pat her— Oh just to be with her again………….

We wondered! — will she “be the same as yesterday — will she smile at us — maybe she will cry — babies do cry! — we could not imagine her crying.

We arrived at the office again promptly at 10. She had us sign some papers and went with us in our car to the baby. We , arrived at the same Jetton time as the doctor did.

When Marion and I entered the house and saw the baby again,

—– the thrills came back, – she gave us a broad smile, —

raised her eyebrows,– kicked her feet, – and, waved her

hands excitedly,—– she hypnotized us.

The foster mother undressed the baby and the doctor examined her. She took the examination so well,— cooperated so beautifully, —

not a whimper out of her,– it was a pleasure to watch. Everything

was all right with her. The doctor showed us the birthmark, and told us that it should go away in time — it was really a very insignificant mark. After the examination the foster mother dressed the baby and wrapped her in a blanket. Marion took the

baby,——- and,——- such a thrill could not be explained —

– it seemed like a dream.

The ride home was one of ecstasy. The sun was shining its

brightest on November 17th, 19^0 —- it will so be recorded

in our diary….. The baby lay quietly on Marion’s lap, all

bundled up,— with her little face peering at us………

Slowly and peacefully, she fell asleep. We rode very slowly, -
— such pleasure an we felt should not be hurried. We were both
pleased, contented, and very, very happy. Everything around us
appeared calm and beautiful,— we spoke in quiet tones, —the

baby was sleeping. We discussed a name for her, and, decided

both to name her after/our fathers P and T, — we felt so

proud. All the way home we kept saying “She is such a good little

baby” — “Such a nice little baby” – “Such a wonderful little

baby” — ••…………… “When we arrived home, ———-

we were a family of 3, — Max,— Marion,— and PIA TANYA SAVAGE.,