Sixties Chick

Yo, Wat up, Mayzee gurl?
Nuthin’ much.
Wat up wit da blog? Ben a long time.
True dat. Stopped writin’  fro a while.
Well where u ben at?
Jus chillin’…I be chillin’.

And damn if there wasn’t a lot I could’ve weighed in on too. For starters, there was the historic Gold family cruise in honor of my Uncle’s 90^th birthday. Underwritten by the birthday boy himself, 23 of us, bound by blood or marriage, floated from L.A. down to what they’re now calling the Mexican Riviera.  No question but that I could have mined a few nuggets of familial intrigue from the decks of that shining Sapphire Princess. Entertaining, yes, but family is family.

There was the week’s visit from my Brazilian ex-husband which could have made for a riveting piece had I felt like going into the ins and outs of our 19-year post-marital relationship. Or the saga of the twenty-four-year-old boarder I took in to help pay the bills, who turned out not to fit that bill or any other. I live and learn. Perhaps a story for another time.

I could have written about taking care of my grand nephews (7 and 9) which would have meant disclosing the “gum in hair” incident, but really, how could I rat on a couple of cute kids? Suffice it to say that males, no matter how young, are very strange creatures indeed.

There was yet another loan taken to finance the college education and my feelings about that, not to mention my state of mind upon completing the last financial aid form I will ever have to fill out. As usual, there was copy to write for clients along with the concomitant “two-step” of getting paid.

Torrential rains hurled shingles off the roof, and my friend Lisa Tracy came north to celebrate the launch of her new book, Objects of our Affection – a great tale about our national obsession with stuff.  To add to the excitement, I signed on to manage two decaying properties for friends overseas which, in only two months time, has shown all signs of a disaster waiting to happen. Future fodder to be sure.

There was the bar mitzvah I attended at a reconstructionist synagogue which touched my heart, the miraculous birth of a 2.5 pound baby in New Haven, and the sad departure of yet a few more wonderful souls from the earth. Add to that more earthquakes, gushing black oil, the mine tragedy, volcanic ash that stopped the world and, of course, Goldman Sucks – and anyone can see there was more than enough material. As usual, there was a lot to talk about.

I just didn’t feel like it. I picked lilacs instead. Bunches of them. I put them all over the house, everywhere, in every room. Lilacs were my mother’s favorite flower.

I sat with the lilacs, jus’ chillin’. Quietly. Because there in the midst of that haunting heady scent, there seemed to be absolutely no need to comment.

This entry was posted on May 12, 2010 at 5:47 pm and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.