Herban Sprawl

Those were the words we are murmured when we heard the Sex in the City movie would soon be out. And those of us who were fans of the series knew instinctively who “they” were – Carrie and Big.

I gathered together a bevy of delightful women and we noshed our way through a pre-movie cosmopolitan and snacks, all really liking the idea of women getting together just to be with the gal pals. The fearsome foursome were always the ideal in friendships among women, and it’s great to see women banding together to see each other through the trials and tribulations of life, whether it’s the search for love or the search for peace and quiet.

As far as the movie goes, I’m not going to be a spoiler, but the thing is, Carrie learned a lesson about needing to think less about the “me” and more about the “us.” It really wasn’t all about the dress.  It really was important to protect herself financially, but when it comes to the ultimate relationship, it always boils down to being an all or none proposition. You take a chance and hope there is just enough sticky stuff to be able to forgive the lapses, whether they are in judgment or in just attending to the business of being a couple.

So was it worth all the hype? Honestly, the film was weak in some areas, but I think it had more to do with the need to edit it down to a certain amount of playing time. I would have liked to have seen a little more of the same snap, crackle and pop of the series, where in one hour they accomplished so much. But the magic of the foursome was there and that’s what this movie was really all about.

For me, the best part was seeing it with a bunch of other ladies who loved the series and who couldn’t wait to see if they did or didn’t. Let’s just say, things happened the way they were supposed to. Just like that old bumper sticker I have – Everything in the Universe is Subject to Change and Everything is on Schedule. And it gave us a great excuse to mix a pitcher of cosmos and just have fun!

28 May 2008

(Happy sometime-in-May Birthday, BubbaDoc!)

Well, Clarice was falling down laughing about my water feature scare. He rang up and wanted to know when we were getting started. As if! Instead I’ve got him organized to make a Lowe’s run with me to buy a big-ass Rubbermaid tool shed. (Besides, I owe him a birthday cake! Bet you thought I forgot!)

One thing about Clarice – as brothers go, he’s indulgent, but he never fails to give me that look when he thinks I’m going off the deep end. Like when I told him I’d discovered eBay. I could hear him suck in his breath and start muttering. But then I told him about the deals I’d found and he had to admit I’d done okay. He’s knows retired schoolmarms don’t rake it in, and especially those who aren’t receiving the full pension.

Anyway, back to the tool shed. Clarice is a huge fan of our screened in porch. He loves to hang out on the flowery chairs and just relax. So when I said I was sick of all my garden tools being in the corner, all messy and such, I knew I’d have a vote in favor of an alternative location.

In truth, I have a space in the basement that was built just for my garden tools, however, I can barely reach the little bit of stuff I have stored there because of all the junk Big Kitty has piled willy-nilly on top of and in front of it all. Regardless, I seldom go into the basement by way of the garage, having given my key to the contractor, who never returned it. There is no room for one more thing anyway. So, the plan to erect a large plastic shed on the patio is probably not a bad one.

Well, we gabbed about this and that and then Clarice came up with a game plan that sounded great at the time, but has become a smidge frightening the more I’ve thought about it. He wants us to shove the boxed up shed down the hill from the street up above our yard. OMG, as they say. I’m now trying to figure out how Clarice and I are going to get that thing out of the truck! He’s already had one hernia surgery that I’d rather not relive - the sight of him marching across a parking lot in his jammie bottoms, like Pop-eye the Sailor, was one I wished I’d filmed – for blackmail purposes, of course! And Big Kitty’s doing physical therapy for shoulder damage. hmmmm

I think this is going to be one of those events that will go down in the Clarice and Stella File of Days We’ll Still Be Talking About After We Move to the Home. I might be wrong, but it has all the earmarks of that kind of story. Kind of like the night I saw BGF’s white hind end shining in the moonlight as he dove headfirst into the frat house, just ahead of the gendarmes. Or the time BubbaC and I hid in the corner of the basement every time Dad stumbled down to go to the bathroom when we were attempting to change the combination on the safe.

Uh-huh. Clarice and Stella and the Indestructible Shed They Trashed. It has that certain je ne sais quoi -

27 May 2008
I spent the Memorial Day weekend getting our screened in porch cleaned up. Here in the Star City, we get a torrent of yellow pollen in mid-May, and I don’t attempt the clean up until that event has safely passed. I used to do this all in one day, collapsing at the end of it, but finally wised up and split the job up into a couple of days. Since forking out a bit of moola for some really fine furniture covers, I cut the task down by quite a bit. It was wonderful to be able to dust off the covers, fold them neatly for the summer and just flick the duster over the furniture.

It isn’t finished, but it’s clean. The floor has been swabbed and treated to a layer of Mop ‘n Glo, which makes that old quarry tile floor look like new. We need to paint, and we need to take down the blinds and give them a serious hosing down, but, as I said, it’s about ready to use.

The side benefit to the swab, dry, wax, dry method is that it leaves time to watch a movie. I had a copy of The Pirate from Netflix. It’s a 1948 extravaganza starring a very, very hunky Gene Kelly and the petite and saucy version of Judy Garland. I have always loved Gene Kelly, but I have to say, this is maybe the second time we’ve ever been treated to his legs – O.M.G.! You knew there had to be muscles governing those moves of his, but, jeezuzmaryandgiuseppe, in those short shorts he made basketball players of the 80s look like wimps.

The movie was a spoof of the old swashbuckler movies of Errol Flynn and the like. Kelly plays a smarmy traveling actor with some really bad hair. Judy Garland gets treated to” gowns by Worth of Paris” that ain’t nothing like what they wore in The House of Mirth, but she looks adorable and plays a pretty smart cookie. So in between swabbing and waxing, I watched the movie and thoroughly enjoyed the dancing and singing.

We had dinner on the porch for the first time this season, and a fine dinner it was – Chicago dogs! Elsewhere in this meandering publication, is a piece waxing brilliant about the quintessential Chicago dog, so I won’t go there for now. Suffice to say, we put Red Hots on Rosen’s poppy seed buns, “ran ‘em true da garden,” and consumed them with gusto. That Vienna website is a godsend! And now that The Fresh Market has Viennas, well, life is great!

Happy Memorial Day!

Part of my family is enjoying a trip to Rome, where they are visiting the sites of the ancient empire. (The sites of our ancient forebears are farther up the pike - the Etruscan ruins, of course!) Nevertheless, after a day of touring all the important stuff, my darling nephew and his lovely girlfriend were relaxing on the terrace of their hotel room, prosecco in hand, when he, on bended knee, proposed to her!

She accepted, and I will now have two matched sets of nieces and nephews!

In this department, I consider myself extremely well-blessed. My niece’s husband is a dear - a great sense of humor, a Cub fan, and utterly besotted with her. He’s also very indulgent of her insane auntie, and watches sports with her unc. The best of all combinations, if you ask me.

The new niece-to-be is very creative and a fabulous cook. She’s also been a swell auntie to the great niece and nephew, which earned her very high marks in The World’s Greatest Aunt’s book. Thus, I consider my nephew to be a very lucky chap, indeed.

I am touched by his wonderful sense of drama in choosing to propose in Rome, however, and am so utterly proud that in spite of his sad state of affairs, knee-wise, he did it the old-fashioned way and even had a ring ready to put on her finger! I’d be willing to bet his great-grandfather Attilio, who also had bad knees, didn’t propose to Caterina in that fashion!

And so we will have a wedding to look forward to ~ buona fortuna, nipote mio! Buona fortuna, nipote mia!

23 May 2008

The House Goddess was checking out the progress in my back yard revamp. Admittedly, it’s a slow job, but it’s coming along. We were looking up the hill and she was telling me about what she wants to do with her pond. She likes to go to the flea market for her pond plants and she wants big rocks for surrounding it.

As we gazed uphill, I commented that several years ago when I was more enthusiastic about my hill, I had thought about installing a cascading sort of water features that would run down the hill. The H.G. got really excited about that idea. “Oh, Girl,” she drawled, “now that would really be goin’ o-on!” Right away I got scared. I recognized that feeling. A cool project in the making~

It’s times like these when I wish The Uncles were close by. A project like installing a water feature is right up their alley. Digging into the hill, dumping in a layer of sand, arguing about whether the pieces are securely fitted, sniping over whether the rocks are placed evenly, fiddling and futzing with the water pump, digging the trench for the electricity… I can hear them now.

It was just one of these sorts of bright ideas that got the swimming pool built in the back yard on St. Vincent’s Avenue. Well, that and a few bottles of some kind of homemade hooch!

I planted the big Plant for the Cure geranium in a fresh pot for the front, planted some portulaca along the walk and put in the two digitalis plants I got yesterday. I kept thinking about that water feature. I kept glancing up the hill. I wonder if Uncle Cookie would like to take a little trip to southwest VA. I wonder if he’d like to visit the Maritime Museum in Newport News to see the ironclad. I wonder if he’d like to supervise another backyard water project!

Maybe I just need to jump in the car and go see them. Maybe a little trip would get this foolishness out of my head. On the other hand, knowing them, they’d say, “Hell, yeah! Put it in! It’ll keep you off the streets!”

“Marriage is like a 1953 Studebaker Lowey Starliner. It requires constant work on the desirable things that made you want it in the first place.”  “Steve”

Why are men unable to communicate in relationships? All day long they communicate in their workplaces, but when it comes to the kinds of revelations they need to make in their love lives they suddenly become deaf and mute.

I have a friend whose romantic interest has recently shut down emotionally. There have been subtle changes in the relationship, but the effervescence of the the first year or so has fizzled out. He won’t talk to her.

To be sure, he has a plethora of personal problems that don’t ever seem to get resolved, but he won’t even discuss those with her, let alone allow her to help with them. And she could.

Years ago our good friend Eddie bailed from his toxic marriage. It was a good move. He later met a great woman and as it happened, she met Big Kitty before she met me. She later told me that he was puzzling to her because he yakked on and on about all kinds of things, but never about anything personal. At the time I laughed and said, yeah, he was a Swede. Those little old emotions were locked up in a steel box that had been welded shut, tucked into a waterproof bag, and bound with duct tape. They didn’t come out no way, no how.

But back to my friend. I really get what she’s going through because I’ve gone through it with her guy friend, as well. There was an event that occurred in his life when I first moved to the sunny south and he has yet to tell me about it. And it was no ordinary thing. It was big, it was heart-breaking and it was tough. The thing is, when it happened, I would have been there for him, but I didn’t get the opportunity to be the kind of good friend he needed.

And now this is what he’s doing in his relationship. He’s playing keep away with someone who are sooooo capable, sooooo on top of things, and sooooo wanting to be supportive. It’s one thing to play keep away with me. I get that. But with her?! Is he crazy? Does he have a death wish for the relationship?!!!

Part of me is taking a sensible approach – the teacher approach: he can’t do what he doesn’t know how to do. The other part of me is taking a harder line: an intelligent person involved with another intelligent person - one who can lead the way through the minefield of sharing what’s in the heart – and who won’t open up and lay his cards on the table is in the same boat I was in when I lost an eBay auction. I wasn’t paying attention so I lost.

I don’t have any easy answers for her – only sympathy. On the other hand, I know there’s a piece of 2×4 around here somewhere…

16 May 2008

We like to horrify Shannon. The fact that she shrieks in disbelief eggs us on shamelessly and sometimes I think we probably do get boisterously out of line. But, we are boomers and we’ve been around the block a few times so maybe we’re entitled to some outrageous behavior.

Recently the discussion had to do with me moaning about my sagging assets. I’d just signed up for the Avon Fitness Study at Curves – the exercise studio for old ladies. It was a deal and my physical therapist had recommended it as a good way for me to ease into some sort of exercise program. It isn’t like I’m a blimp, but there are things in my closet that I really like and they are too tight. Besides, I’m getting to be an old lady!

I’d just commented that I was doing this because at the rate I was going, I was going to need to use cantilevers to hold up my tatas. My old pal’s response was to stuff his fist into his mouth and roll his eyes heavenward. Shannon lost it. And that’s when I was asked the pencil question.

It’s a fact of life. Some of us spread out as we age. My aim is to prevent my small Italian frame from becoming so Baroque that I’ll never see my toes again. And my pot is the outward sign of abdominal muscles that won’t take good care of my lower back. For a gardener, that’s an essential piece of equipment. I like being strong enough to hoist a 50 pound bag of mulch, but until I get my lower back strengthened, I’m playing Russian roulette every time I jockey around some big sack of potting soil or something. Plus there is the matter of the concrete blocks I’m about to start arranging for a retaining wall. Gotta get the abs in shape so I don’t injure myself.

So, Shannon, go get some tissues to wipe your eyes – If you don’t have a secret bottle of bourbon in your office, maybe it’s time to get one. We show no signs of turning into sedate members of society and it’s time for you to loosen up, Girl!

Oh, and the answer to The Question is still just one. Two would not stay put, thank heaven. The defense rests, your honor.

It started out with a trip to a “collectible” store where I was hunting for a gift for a family member. I have a fondness for miniatures and I always enjoyed a walk through their collection of village pieces. You know – those exorbitantly priced lighted china buildings people tend to display at Christmas. And that’s when I got into big trouble.

I learned how to wait until pieces were being retired so they would be on sale. And, in some cases, if they were gifts, they got bought before that time. I found something for everyone, although the one that made me laugh the hardest was the drive-in I got for BubbaChet. It was probably the best thing I ever could have found… I even got a couple of little cars for it. One for him and one for his dear spouse. (Hers is the Vette, of course!)

The thing is, my own collection began. And like anything that has the potential to mushroom, I created some brakes to keep it under control. Mine is Little Chicago. The first item was Wrigley Field, followed by a bar and a souvenir shop. Next was the Art Institute, and finally it was the Water Tower, courtesy of my brother Clarice. In between I had been collecting the little cars. I love little cars! My favorite is the 1950 Studebaker, of course.

But Clarice’s Water Tower needed the side street boutiques that are germane to the upper Michigan shopping experience. They came out with Milano of Italy. In the window is a top hat and cane – perfect for Fred Astaire to glide down the avenue in his white tie and tails. A closeout added streetlights, and then I found lighted trees that reminded me of when the Magnificent Mile was first lit up with “Italian lights.”

I’ve also been searching for a little restaurant similar to the one I gave Anna a bunch of years ago. What’s upper Michigan without an elegant little restaurant around the corner from the Water Tower?

Then came the biggest mistake of my life. I decided to browse eBay. I have done that periodically to see if there are any coveted pieces of china, and also to track Anna’s Rosenthal so I know how the prices are going. (That’s another story-) I wondered if any of my pieces were being sold and what they were fetching.

Then I saw it. A vendor from Wisconsin was selling a Frango Factory. I nearly fell out of my chair. I signed up for eBay privileges, signed up for PayPal and jumped in.

It should arrive tomorrow.

BGF has an idea for a hollow shelf so that I can deal with all the tiny wires from the trees, streetlights and the buildings. He told me to measure. But until this eBay thing, I thought I was done. I learned that the company makes pieces for private concerns, such as this Frango Factory that was sold only at Marshall Field’s. That’s when I emailed the Vienna Hot Dog folks and requested a hot dog stand, and the Frank Lloyd Wright Preservation Trust to suggest a lighted Robie House.

Big Kitty has been commissioned to make me a soundtrack of songs about the Windy City, and I swear, until they make a Vienna hot dog stand and/or Robie, I’m done. Well, unless they make a Hancock Center, or the Wrigley Building, or a lift span bridge, or the Picasso…

12 May 2008

After several days of misses, near misses and a direct hit (to Red Rocket’s poor old rear bumper), things began looking up.

First was that Shannon passed the bar! You go, Girl!!! In one of those odd quirks, BGF handed her an estate task to do. As a result she knew the answer to an obscure question that hadn’t come up on the bar for at least ten years. BGF is smirking, but I know pride when I see it.
Next was that Stephanie was “crowned” Roanoke City Teacher of the Year. I am so pleased and proud of her. She really deserves it - First as a finalist for the McGlothlin Award and now this. I think they could not have bestowed this on a more worthy or grateful recipient.

Perhaps all this rain is washing away more than the layer of sunny yellow pollen. Whatever the case, two remarkable young women have reached their respective goals and the world is blessed to have them.

As Tony Bennett said, “Pops was right. It’s a wonderful world.”

7 May 2008

I was so pleased by the results of the mayoral election here in the Star City. As I looked over the results of the precincts in this morning’s paper, something hit me about one of my earlier observations about the group of people that ran for council in general. My feeling was that the current crop of Democrats on Council, the mayor included, made better Republicans than they did Democrats. That the “Democratic” ticket won in heavily Republican SoRo and Raleigh Court pretty much validates my opinion.

Luckily his sorta sidekick did not win back his seat. David Bowers doesn’t need the distractions brought by someone like Brian Wishneff. I’m sure the man has some redeeming qualities, but none come to mind. He certainly didn’t want to work with the teachers when he was on school board, and he wasn’t very nice to those who questioned the budget, which is what stewards of the public’s trust are supposed to do. But, like I said, I’m sure he’s not totally bad. The best thing he could do is to step away gracefully and turn his attention to putting together business deals that benefit the city. I’m told this is what he excels at.

Now, however, David Bowers needs to focus on the future and how he’s going to forge working relationships with a council that was counting on keeping the Reverend Doctor Mayor in power.

If he was sitting here with me, having a shot of my lethal espresso, here is what I would say to him:

“It’s the economy, stupid.”  That sign on James Carville’s wall was prophetic then and it’s critical now. But before you can lure businesses to our lovely neck of the woods, there are some key things you need to pay attention to.

First on my list, David:  DO NOT MESS WITH RITA BISHOP! Her plan to redirect Forest Park School has its reasons and before you go pandering to that neighborhood with any more campaign rhetoric, sit down with her and discuss why she selected that school. Trust me on this, I haven’t always agreed with her, but as superintendents go, I have worked for two duds and she’s showing the best chance of pulling the city schools out of the cellar that the previous ones put them in. She’s got her reasons. Think big picture, David, because unlike most educators of my acquaintance, she does, and at 6 feet in her socks, she can see over the whole mess. Then get behind her in this. She’s assembled a capable staff and it’s in her best interest to fix the problems.

Second on my list, David: developing Mill Mountain and the amphitheater are distractions. Table all of that. Focus on what is affordable and doable and what will keep us moving along with the greenways. If an amphitheater has to happen, use the site on Orange Avenue. No floods, no disruption of the downtown vibe, and no need for a lotta porta-potties along Williamson Road.

Third on my list, David: you don’t have a majority so you are going to have to rely on your charm, which you have in spades. The first person you have to charm is the city manager. The main suggestion I have to that end is to remind her of the way things are supposed to work, while thanking her for the foresight and initiative she has already shown. Ask her to please play by the rules, and oh, while she’s at it, suggest that you don’t much care for disgruntled city employees. You want to make that happen? Put something directly measurable in her evaluation goals. Process, David. Process. Process protects you and it keeps her accountable.

Fourth on my list, David: the Melrose/Orange Avenue corridor is messy and doesn’t help the neighborhoods that lie on either side of it. I’d like to see some attention paid to cleaning up some of those areas so that the residents can come and go with ease and in safety. These are the people who turned out for you this time. Repay them by treating their neighborhoods with respect and viable assistance.

Fifth on my list, David: public transportation and sidewalks. Smaller buses that run on biofuels would allow Valley Metro to expand its routes and its ridership. Be a one-man-band for taking the bus. See for yourself by taking the bus around town. See where you can and cannot go. And pay attention to the time of day, especially third shift. I have a whole cohort of educated women in the local branch of AAUW who will be more than happy to sit down with you and discuss how public transportation can have a positive impact on our community. And that leads into something that has been your Achilles heel –

Sixth on my list, David: regional cooperation on projects like public transportation. If people like to come downtown to the Market on Saturday, what would prevent them from taking a bus? First is that there isn’t a bus near them. Second is that they don’t know how to transport their veggies and plants home. The second part is easy – the city can sell, at a tiny profit, the kinds of carts you see people using for their groceries in the large cities. The first part means you have to be committed to getting along with the other entities in order to do something that will be of long-term benefit to us all.

Use your imagination, David. Anybody who lived in New Orleans knows the value of the streetcar. We don’t need decorative trolleys - we need an infrastructure that will support the nifty stuff like amphitheaters. We need an expanded and fabulous library for the kids that Rita’s trying to save from oblivion. We need the unsexy stuff that makes for neighborhoods filled with pride.

Congratulations, David, and best wishes. I’ll put the coffee on any time you want to discuss issues with a cranky old Democrat.