Recent Essays
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Boots on the Ground
I was wearing black Billy Martin cowboy boots, a sweater and leggings when I met my husband on a blind date. He wore a towel. I was trying to project nonchalant chic. He was running late, but I’m pretty sure he was just boasting his biceps. Boots and leggings are pretty much still my uniform, but I’ve since trained my husband to wear pants when answering the door. Thirty-two years have passed, but when the leaves and the temperatures drop and boot season begins, I am reminded of that fall when we fell…
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Snakes in the Grass – A Father’s Lesson
I grew up the middle of three sisters in a pink house on a cul de sac in the suburbs of Randolph, NJ, in a neighborhood so idyllic our street was named Comfort Court. My sister Meredith was four years younger so she was either being ignored or tortured by my sister Lisa and me. Lisa was only 16 months older than me. We couldn’t have been more different. While I was always in girly clothes with a bow or headband in my hair, Lisa was a tomboy with horn-rimmed glasses and frizzy…
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A Tale of Two Cities
When my son, Dylan, moved to Chicago almost two years ago I was really sad. I consoled myself with the hope was that he would work there for two years and then return to New York. As I wished – he started to express interest in coming back this summer. He loves his job but he misses family and friends and he contacted some head hunters and has an interview coming up. I was hopeful. Last week he flew to San Francisco for the weekend to visit two great guys who had left…
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The Jury is Out
I received my Jury Summons a few weeks ago – it’s always a shock to see that blue envelope – it’s like getting a parking ticket or one of those speeding tickets caught by a mounted camera. You didn’t intentionally do anything wrong and yet you are being summoned to court. Starting Sunday, I called in for three nights in a row and my luck held out – a recording told me YOU ARE NOT REQUIRED TO REPORT TO COURT TOMORROW PLEASE CALL AFTER 5 PM TOMORROW. I breathed a sigh of relief…
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Honey, can you hear me?
My husband and I have been married for 26 years. Both of us are in our 50’s but we feel healthy and look pretty youthful. Ok, so we get up from a chair groaning with knees creaking like the Tin Man. And perhaps we can’t read a menu or price tag or anything at all without glasses or a flashlight app. But other than that we have all our faculties. Well, most of them anyway. Recently I noticed that my hearing is on the decline. I’ve always been like a CSI with razor…
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Secret Slob Society – Members Welcome
I’ve always taken pride in my reputation as being extremely neat and orderly. My house looks like no one lives there – if something is moved an inch I know it. I talk on the phone with a paper towel and a spray bottle of Fantastic in my hand. My hangars match. I never go out with chipped nail polish. I iron my sheets. It’s hard to live up to this standard of perfection.So recently I noticed that I am relaxing my ideals. Perhaps I am swaying a bit too far in the…
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Yogi Bare — The Danger of Yoga Pants
It’s 11 pm. I have been wearing yoga pants for 15 hours. If you had told me 20 years ago that I would spend an entire day wearing yoga pants I would have laughed and sworn it would never happen. Twenty years ago I moved to the suburbs from NYC and went to the bus stop the first day of school wearing soft buttercup yellow DKNY jeans. The other mothers wore Mom jeans and looks of amusement as they checked out the new city expatriate. I didn’t care if I looked overdressed. I’ve…
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Going Cocoa Nuts — I’ll Share Anything… Except my Chocolate!
I consider myself kind and giving and generous. Especially when it comes to my children. I would do almost anything to make them happy. By my generosity has been put to the test. My 23-year-old son Justin has moved back home after graduating college. As he begins his career working for my husband Marty he is living with us and saving money until he can afford to move out on his own. Suddenly I have to share things that were previously my own. I share my couch which now has a dent where…
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Olympic Dreaming – The Menopause Marathon
I am not very interested in sports. I don’t enjoy watching or playing sports nor do I like watching them on TV or in an arena. I will never live down the time I brought a Vogue magazine to Yankee Stadium and I have been at Super Bowl parties and not known who is playing. But I have to admit, I love the Winter Olympics. We own a ski house so I am more familiar with winter sports and every once in a while I even participate in them. I can ski a…
