Christmas in NYC

NYC can choose to be either flat out boring, over crowded and malodorious or it can decide to unwrap and become magical. This trip was the latter. Alighting from Penn Station in the early afternoon we hailed a cab. Legend has it that NYC is strewn with mythical beings in the form of cab drivers. These divine entities have seen all the worldly good and evil, yet have retained the ability to be patiently amused by man’s folly.  Just such a deity picked us up. While he navigated expertly through the throng of honking cars, we bemoaned the lack of good, or even bad, Mexican food in our county, to which he responded knowingly with the name and address of the best Mexican restaurant in NYC, and which happened to be a few blocks away from our hotel. We dropped our bags in the lobby and immediately headed to the chosen venue. Upon arrival, we were told that, ordinarily, the restaurant was not open for lunch, but today was an exception because of a holiday party that had booked half the room. I took this as another sign that NYC had rolled out the welcome mat.  And the food was spectacular; Mexican mana  (as was the price, but hey, this is NYC, so forget about it).

Later that evening, we headed to the oh so famous Monkey Bar. Apparently this bar is the place where the local swells hang out. The famous, the not so famous, the wanna be famous and us, who couldn’t care less about any of it other than the bartender’s drinks have a generous pour and it happens to be immediately adjacent to our hotel. Where were these glorious and glamorous people coming from at this late hour on a weeknight. We agreed that it must have had to do with holidays celebrations. One party ended, another had begun, seemingly right here before our very eyes. The maitre d’ was shooing people away at the door; the Bar was that popular. And there we sat, a couple of old folk, privately enjoying the show. Glad that we weren’t young anymore but equally grateful that when we were that young we had been there and done that; quietly appreciating not to have missed out on any of it. Glad too, that it was someone else’s turn to be quick and witty and pretty and smart.

The next day opened sunny and bright. We headed to the MOMA for our dose of culture. Serault, Van Gogh, Matisse, were all right where we had left them, albeit they had been moved around the rooms and the floors. We talked about walking to the Guggenheim but on the way we were sidetracked by the bright store windows. It was Christmas. Everything was shiny. The bows on the buildings beckoned, as did the inventory. I have learned, after many years of shopping with men, that shopping is much more enjoyable when a man can be entertained with eye candy, so I would leave him sitting in a chair by the cosmetics counters where all the pretty young girls go to make themselves even more pretty. Looking still is legal these days and the parade still is endless.

The day, however, turned cold and windy and snow began to fall at alarming speeds and angles. We hurried back to our hotel, all the while fighting the snow that kept blowing into our eyes and side stepping around other people who found themselves hurrying to safety from the same storm. We agreed that hearty Korean BBQ was required to warm the cockles of our stomachs, so off we went at the only reservation time available to us: 4:30 pm. Evidently the place was booked solid and this was the only time open. We arrived to find a completely empty restaurant, not that we minded. It meant that we would have great service. Waiters hovered over the open BBQ flames while we overate with gusto. By the time we left, though, the other seats and the waiting area were packed. It dawned on us then that other people worked for a living. They left the office at 5 or 6 pm, ergo the place would be full shortly thereafter.

In any event, we were done, happily returning to the hotel and the private lounge on the second floor that served their patrons free wine and munchies. We talked, we drank, we watched the foul outdoor weather from our warm window perch and admired the Christmas decorations everywhere. Another thing to admire about NYC. No one cares about the political climate when it comes to Christmas. Christmas is Christmas; trees, garlands, baubles, tinsel were everywhere. Christmas music poured out of every speaker far and wide. People sang, yelled, called out Merry Christmas to each other. New Yorkers are not to be intimidated.

Our last night in town saw us attending a production of Jersey Boys. While Scott and I had seen the show in LA and then Las Vegas we still loved the opportunity to hear the music, the retelling of the Four Seasons’ story and the sotto voce singing along with their big hits. The play was performed at a new venue. While we sat chatting, waiting for the show to begin, I realized that the atmosphere was different. Old theaters have an aura of history, a soul, a smell of greasepaint left over from many many productions. New theaters are just new. Clean air, clean seats, fresh paint, even stellar sound and lighting doesn’t make up for the romance of ghosts of long ago.

And then, as quickly as we arrived, it was time to leave. We waited patiently at the station for our train. While seated, we watched as a policeman walked through with his dog, presumably sniffing for drugs or other illegal paraphernalia. When the dog sauntered by us and our luggage it didn’t even slow down; hurt my feelings.

Legends of the Fall Quiz

Legends of the Fall Quiz 

What was Dr. Frankenstein’s first name? Victor        b)  Igor       c)  Hadley

2) Which Peanuts character was the first to believe in the Great Pumpkin,  even writing to the Great Pumpkin about his sincere pumpkin patch? Snoopy        b) Linus      c) Charlie

3) The Irish originally used turnips to make Jack-O-Lanterns on Hallowe’en.  True      b) False

4) The Legend of Sleepy Hollow is a short story about a headless horseman searching for his head. The author of the story is: Bram Stoker     b) Ichabod Crane      c) Washington Irving

5)  Double, double toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble is one of the most famous lines in English literature. These lines are spoken in unison by three witches. Whose future do the witches predict.  Macbeth       b)  Hamlet       c) Lear

6) Which pigment hides any other colors in leaves, but disappears in the fall due to the changes in daylight and temperatures.  glucose      b) chlorophyll       c) retsina

7) Hallowe’en is the third most commercially successful holiday after Valentine’s Day.  True     b)  False

8) One of the most popular ways of killing a vampire was to expose it to sunlight. However, there is a real disease that has similar symptoms; people with this disease are very sensitive to sunlight, so avoid going out during the day. What is the name of this disease.  anemia    b) porphyria    c) scrapie

9) The ghost of the 16th President of the United States, Abraham Lincoln, is reported to be one of the ghosts that haunts the White House.  True     b) False

10)  In the Northern Hemisphere, the autumnal equinox begins in September. When does autumn begin in the Southern Hemisphere.  February        b) March        c) April

11) Which of these birds do not migrate in autumn? ravens   b) swallows    c) storks

12) John Cleese played which ghostly character who haunted the halls of Hogwarts in the Harry Potter movies.  the Fat Friar    b) the Bloody Baron  c) Nearly Headless Nick

13) How many countries celebrate the harvest festival of  “Thanksgiving” as we know it?   one         b)    two       c)  three

ANSWERS - BUT NO FAIR PEEKING

1. Victor - Igor was the assistant

2. Linus - Linus really believed that his was the most sincere pumpkin patch and that the Great Pumpkin would deliver toys and candy for all the good children on Hallowe’en night. 

3. True - Before using pumpkins, the Irish used turnips, which were more affordable and more plentiful. They were lit with coal and used to beckon deceased love ones and stave off the evil spirits.

4. Traditional folklore holds that the Horseman was a Hessian trooper who was killed during the Battle of White Plains in 1776. Modern folklore had his search taking place around Hallowe’en, when he rises from his grave as a malevolent ghost searching for his head. 

5. Macbeth - aka the Weird Sisters, who held a striking resemblance to the three Fates of Greek mythology which dictate that a person’s fate cannot be changed.

6. chlorophyll - glucose is a simple sugar; retsina is a Greek wine

7. False - Hallowe’en is the second most commercially successful holiday after Christmas. Valentine’s Day is third.

8. Porphyria causes great sensitivity to light and people with the disease might even have red eyes and teeth.

9. True - the official White House website states that Abraham Lincoln has appeared in the Lincoln Bedroom and Yellow Oval Room. First Lady Grace Coolidge, Prime Minister Winston Churchill, and Queen Wilhelmina of the Netherlands all claimed to have seen the ghost of the President.

10. March

11. Ravens - Most ravens mate for life and use the same nest each year.

12. Nearly Headless Nick

13. Three:  the U.S., on the 4th Thursday in November; Canada, on the 2nd Monday in October, and Germany, the Erntedankfest is celebrated on the first Sunday in October.

The Movies

When I was a little girl my mom would dress us up and take us to the movies, with the reminder to behave well during this little foray into the adult world. Upon arrival, after paying for the tickets and admiring the variety of candies at the concessions stand, an usher bearing a flashlight would appear at the theater door, who would then escort us to our seats, after admonishing us to be careful on the steps. There were running lights attached to all the aisle seats to lighten our way but the usher nonetheless would flash his light during the walk to and then along our chosen seat row.

Once we were securely placed in our seats, I had time to look about this mysterious and vast cavern of a theater, that even had a balcony; a loge where grown ups could smoke. The seats were large and tilted, the fabric on which we sat was velvet, usually a deep burgundy color that matched the stage curtains. The decor in each theater was so distinct: Middle Eastern, Art Deco, Asian, all grand, gaudy and glorious. Every theater was a trip to an exotic world. The ceilings could be rococo with impossibly huge hanging chandeliers that provided many long moments of awe and entertainment; the walls’ striking patterns provided a feast for the imagination. It was a fascinating time, inspiring great whispered conversations between ourselves. We didn’t dare speak out loud.

We were alerted that the performance was about to begin when soft music commenced. It was our cue to sit up, pay attention and look straight ahead. We didn’t want to miss anything. A hush came over the crowd as the lights lowered and the curtains opened.  We watched with rapt attention while we followed a short reel of current events, perhaps laughed with a cartoon or two, and then the curtains would close again. At this point, last minute arrivals were allowed entry and were hurriedly seated. When the curtains parted a second time, we knew it was time for the movie to begin. Oh, the eager anticipation.

The movies then were spectacular events. They were longer in those days.  West Side Story was 2.5 hours long, The Sound of Music was almost three hours long, as was My Fair Lady. Gone With The Wind was almost four hours long. Each movie had a 15 minute intermission. During the intermission (and we knew it was Intermission because that is what it said on the screen), music from the movie would play as the lights came up, allowing us to safely walk to the powder room or make an indiscriminate purchase at the concessions stand. We contentedly hummed our favorite tune during this brief respite from the excitement of watching the story on the huge screen. Then we returned to our seats for the breathtaking finale. Later, when the movie ended, we would again hear the same melodies as we exited the theater. Sometimes we received a 10 or 15 page hard copy booklet about the movie we had just watched. It was glorious to learn tidbits about the movie we had just watched.

And then there were Saturday afternoon matinees. This was an entirely different genre of movie. Mom would drop us off, give us each a quarter and counsel us to stay together. The theater would be filled with euphoric unsupervised kids like ourselves while our parents, undoubtedly, enjoyed an afternoon of peace and quiet. We said hello to our equally excited friends while we partook of fresh popcorn and raisinettes. And here was the reason for our unparalleled excitement:  double features! Cowboy movies: Gene Autry and Roy Rogers; adventure movies: King Kong and Tarzan;  science fiction movies: Journey to the Center of the Earth and The Invisible Man; horror movies: Frankenstein and The Mummy, and the occasional full length cartoon such as Cinderella or Snow White. Life was grand. The horror, the terror, or the courage of our movie idols would carry us throughout the entire following week.

And there were so many theaters nearby. Each theater was owned by its studio. We could go to the Bijou, which was owned by Universal; we could go to the Paramount, which was owned by Paramount; we could go to Hiland, which was owned by 20th Century Fox. United Artists and RKO likewise had their own theaters. We could go to a different movie at a different theater each night of the week.

Then, alas, times changed; studios no longer owned their own theaters and the multiplex appeared. These theaters were bright, functional, streamlined, and much less plush. Gone were the curtains, the decor, and the ubiquitous ushers with flashlights. Gone were the cartoons and newsreels. Gone too was the eager anticipation of venturing into an unknown magical world. And gone were the long movies; the new ones usually were 90 minutes long or thereabouts. We bore these, and other life’s changes, stoically.

Now, however, times have changed again and it appears that we may have come full circle.  We soon will see our little town’s “new and improved” remodeled cineplex. Perhaps not quite the glory days of yesteryear, but we have learned that the “new and improved” theaters will offer alcoholic beverages and heated seat barcaloungers. I can only hope that we will be able to hear the dialogue over the snoring.

So, Global Warming?

In my old age, I have become skeptical about almost everything. Carbs are good, carb are bad; sun is good, sun is bad; rubber is good; rubber is bad; organic is good, organic is bad; short hair is good, grey hair is bad. So, now, I’m not sure about the hoopala regarding the current global warming panic. I remember when scientists, back in the ’70’s, presented "clear and compelling evidence" that at the rate people were replicating the world would soon be overpopulated and we would all starve within 10 years unless we brought population under control. The world could not generate enough food to keep the population of earth alive. All the bobble heads in the country agreed and couples had only two children. Two children were good, three children were bad. Three children would mean that one of them would starve. No longer did we see the ubiquitous Maytag ad showing a happy couple surrounded by their 17 children while the Maytag machine worked overtime.  In 1900 the world population was 1,600,000,000. In 1975 the world population was 4,079,087,198. Dire predictions ensued. Mormons (with their seven or eight children) were hoarding enormous numbers of canned food in their shelters. In 2015 the world population was 7,383,008,820. Today, not only is the world’s population not starving, but obesity appears to be the planet’s biggest problem, not to mention all the “begetting” that people must be enjoying in order to procreate. So much for the “clear and compelling” evidence proving world starvation was imminent.

Then came the ’80’s, and scientists presented “clear and compelling evidence” that pollution was going to keep the sun’s rays from warming the earth. We would all freeze to death in the coming ice age unless drastic measures were taken immediately. Huge sacrifices were made; we stopped using aerosol hairspray. Instead, time passed and we learned the same pollution wasn’t causing the sun’s rays from coming through the smog, although it was making for more beautiful sunsets; what it was doing though, said the same scientists’ “clear and compelling evidence”, was heating the planet, not cooling it. The bobble heads nodded in agreement. Entire manufacturing industries in this country folded to cleanse the air. And which countries are the most air polluted? Bangladesh, Pakistan and India. Their combined populations are about 1.6 billion. And what are they doing about it? Zip.  China is ranked 12th at 1.4 billion. China has a much greater land mass than India but likewise, is not doing anything about their pollution, as evidenced by the number of sales of blue face masks, while the US and Canada are ranked 65th and 66th respectively. Perhaps because those polluting manufacturing entities relocated to those other countries that have the worst pollution in the world. Not in my back yard, where the air is sweet, but in your back yard. 

Al Gore said the ice caps would melt within five years; that was over 10 years ago, so I’m somewhat jaundiced about all these recent grim  predictions. Gore’s dire warnings meant that all our seaside homes would be underwater. Tucson would become a waterfront  community, I guess. Yet, I recall, back in junior high science classes, learning about mass. Mass came in three forms: solid, liquid or gas. When water froze, it expanded (something about hydrogen molecules). Our class project was to fill a glass with ice water until it reached the brim. No more, no less. I was to let the glass of ice water sit overnight. Sure enough, in the morning, the ice had melted and the water level had dropped an inch. So if the ice caps melt, won’t the water levels drop since frozen water takes up more space. 

By 2K, I was older and, perhaps not wiser, but more cynical about following the latest experts’ “clear and compelling” evidence. Heck, just to play devil’s advocate, if the earth was warming, wouldn’t that mean that countries above the tundra line would become arable. We could live in parts of the world that currently are unlivable, like Siberia, the Netherlands or the Northwest Territories. 

Then again (here’s the scientific part of this rant), speaking of clear and compelling evidence, a friend recently sent me an article from a science magazine about the Milankovitch Cycles. Apparently the world’s axis shifts a few degrees each millennium and that is what is causing the current warming trend; not anything that humanity is doing or not doing. Simply put, these cycles are caused by changes in the earth's orbit around the sun, like its orbital shape, its wavy wobble and the tilt of its axis. Each of these has a different effect on how much of the sun's energy reaches the earth and when the strongest sunlight occurs. These effects usually occur in cycles, and primarily include how Earth's obliquity, the eccentricity of Earth's orbit, and the precession of the equinoxes and solstices affect Earth's climate. The article was very long, technical and scientific; anyone with the fortitude to do so is welcome to research it further. It did make a lot more sense than Denmark or Alaska switching to solar energy since they only gets six months of sunlight. 

Since, or if, the Milankovitch Cycle is the explanation for global warming, all we can do is buy suntan lotion with a higher SPF rating and move to Canada. Personally, I am calmed by the notion that in ten years I will more than likely be dead. I let Bobby McFerrin’s tune “don’t worry; be happy” loop around in my brain all day while I enjoy the glorious sunsets reflecting on the water’s edge of my property. Peace and love to scientists everywhere. 

Auld Lang Syne

The song's Scots title may be translated into English literally as "old long since", or might be loosely translated as "for (the sake of) old times". And we were so fortunate that there were many many ‘old times’. 

For over a dozen years, friends “up on the hill” gave a new year’s bash that was, by all accounts, extraordinary. Black tie, lovely gowns, superb food and ever flowing champagne, famous guests, sparkling conversations and us.  Each year we continued to receive an invitation in the mail, and each year was more exciting than the next. Whether our careers were waxing or waning, these people were our friends. We were still kids all dressed like grown ups. Once a year we appeared in glamorous garb but our friends also saw us in office dress code, ski gear, bathing suits and occasionally in less than becoming stances and attitudes. We grew, over the years, from young adults to responsible real life adults. The discussions moved from rock concerts, new restaurants and ski trips to mortgages, backyard grilles and schools. It seemed that it would always be like this, and then one year no invitation came; like us, their lives had changed, our hosts had moved and it was time for all of us to change directions. Nonetheless, the closet was full of long gowns and great memories.

A group of us, by now old friends, rallied and for another number of years we held a table at the Raymond restaurant. The restaurant was famous for two things: great food; and its location. It was/is located on Raymond Avenue in Pasadena. There were two seatings; we reserved the later seating, a large table by the windows. Windows were very important since it gave us the perfect view to watch the parade floats come by as they were put into place for the next day’s Rose Parade. Between courses, we would take our champagne flutes and walk amongst the floats as they were jostled into place. At midnight in the restaurant, a trio of trumpeters from the USC marching band would arrive and play ‘auld lang syne', not loudly, but softly and slowly, not to herald in the new year, but to say good-bye to the old year. Inevitably, the entire restaurant would come to a quiet standstill while we all silently said our own good-byes to the year past, the adventures spent and the friends who remained and those we had lost. Auld Lang Syne. It was always exciting to get up on New Years morn and watch the parade on TV, wearing our jammies, nursing a bit of a thumper, and hearing about the work that went into building each float. A  float that we had seen the night before, we learned, had taken a year to build, flowers that we had touched were from exotic locales, and we would smile to realize that there we had been, walking among them, up close we could see what truly dedicated work went into putting each float together. 

Years passed, for all of us triumphs and disappointments abounded. Our lush manes and beards thinned and greyed. Strong bodies grew weak. And what remained behind, of course, were memories. Years and years, thankfully, of great memories, of old times, of old friends. So, today when news of an old friend’s passing arrives, we mourn; part of us dies because their memories of us are dead. Part of who we are, and were, is gone; conversely when someone from our past appears, it brings new life to our old one. We cheer for their remembrances and ours; auld lang syne. Still, it does not change, as each year passes we say so many good-byes. To friends who have gone before us, to working lives, to past lives and places. As each new year dawns, I’m reminded of a stanza from one of Walt Whitman’s poems:

Though nothing can bring back the hour 
Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower; 
We will grieve not, rather find Strength 
in what remains behind.

Auld Lang Syne