Mother Nature's Tricks and Treats

For any new readers out there (I hope!) and my faithful readers who check out what story I have each day, I am sharing again one of my favorite cards I created using my Molly. I wish you all a Happy Halloween, have fun and be safe. The little heart stickers with Molly in disguise I used to seal the envelopes.





What a trick Mother Nature played on us this weekend. I hope you are all safe and have power back up. I lost power for about 8 hours on Saturday and my sister up in New England is still without power as is the local high school in my neighborhood.

I go into town each morning for a cup of coffee. I have to go really early or after 8:30 so I miss the crowds of kids going to school. There's a train in the town so they are commuting into the area from there and also a Duncan Donuts, where years ago you would never see so many teens lined up at a coffee shop. Now they serve all the fancy drinks and some of the kids even drink regular coffee. I didn't start drinking coffee until I was about 20 and had been working a few years. I never liked the taste of it. My nieces and nephews all seem to have loved it from babies. But not my coffee. I have coffee with milk and a pinch of sugar. They'd much rather a sip from, to name a couple, my brothers Bob's and Joey's coffee, whereas they have sugar and cream with a drop of coffee. Tastes more like ice cream.

But I went into town this morning and it was like the high school kids were having a fire drill in the middle of town. They must have told the kids to stick around because the power should be up by fourth period (no idea what time that is!?). But I hear them talking to each other, some saying they're going home, they don't care. Others just enjoying hanging out yapping with their friends and getting a few hours off from school.

In my town there are tons of tree limbs all over the street, thank goodness no one was hurt here but I'm watching the news and seeing Connecticut, New Jersey, New England the airports and all the damage that this storm caused. Seeing snow all over the green lawns, the trees that were finally starting to turn beautiful fall colors are now laying in the streets or hanging by a thread threatening to fall on top of houses and cars and last night's colder weather causing more problems.

So many people who can't afford to live on a daily basis, so many out of work and now having to throw good food away ruined by the loss of power, staying in hotels to keep warm, going out to dinner, damage to cars. And the saddest of course that lives have been lost. Mother Nature is beautiful and scary too. Tricks and Treats.

This weekend was a trick for sure but I hope it is followed by treats, beautiful fall weather and no more snow! Power restored to those without and a safe day for all the kids out there having fun on one of their favorite holidays!

The kids I heard talking this morning are normal kids. Of course they don't care. They don't understand. It will probably end up being a day off for them. Again I hope a fun and safe Halloween day for all them.

I park my car around the block from my house under a cove of trees and this was before any of the trees had fallen on Saturday, but I went out to move my car because of the snow. I'd rather be parked on another block that I wont have to go up a big hill in case it gets icy. But as I was slipping walking down the block I decided to just get some salt I had in the trunk of my car and put that down on my steps, I wasn't going to drive even a block in the slippery streets.

I went back home and about 10 minutes later went outside and saw a big tree limb laying in the street, just a few feet from where my footprints were still in the snow. So close to falling on me.



Had I moved the car I would have been walking across the street right under that tree that lost the limb probably at the time it had fallen. Women's intuition? Angel on my shoulder? Luck? All of the above?

Mother Nature.

There was a commercial years ago, so funny. "It's Not Nice to Fool Mother Nature" In fact a girl at my high school, another aspiring actress, Peggy, would imitate this commercial in the cafeteria at school, cracking everyone up. This one from YouTube is the only one I could find but there were a bunch of them during the mid 70s and again Peggy entertained a lot of us during those times.



She used to do one of George Carlin routines too, I know it had a curse in it, maybe "bs" or just the "s" without the "b", but she got caught by one of the nuns, of course making it even funnier. I always thought I'd see Peggy on TV or Broadway, she was talented. In any case I'm sure she's still making her family and friends laugh.

A Different Hat

My mom started working basically when I started working after secretarial school. She loved it! Absolutely was excited to get out of bed in the morning, commute to the city and work all day, she even worked lots of overtime and loved that too. After raising not only her younger sister from a teen and then 7 children, the first thing she wants to do when my father worked light duty on the FDNY and Joey was old enough, Linda still in high school and getting home from school pretty much the same time to take care of him, she could watch him on days my father had to work. At that time he worked a 24 hr shift and then was off for 3 days, so he was mostly home with Joey and if he worked the weekend my mom was home. Man all I can think of is the day I can stop working and it's going to be a long time!!! Again, my mom also raised all of us, yes I watched my younger brother and sister, many times, but she still had to deal with every thing else tending to a family of that size. And that includes all you stay at home moms (and dads) it's the hardest job of all, although it must be the most rewarding, as an aunt, I am overwhelmed when I get loving back from my nieces and nephews even after some of the younger ones have given me a rough day! I know it's way way more as a parent.

My sister Linda wasn't exactly the best person to watch Joey on those afternoons before my mom or me got home from work when my dad was working his 24. Joey could get to Linda whereas I always thought he was the funniest thing since he was a baby. He drove me crazy with certain things, but I always ended up laughing. I came home from work one day and Linda is locked out of the house, Joey smiling at the window. (A little of my brother Michael in that smile!) I told Joey to open the door, he locked the screen door which Linda by this time has kicked in pretty bad. Joey was screaming through the glass that Linda was going to kill him, and I'm sure he had been driving her crazy. He opened the door and Linda was right after him, the two of them chasing each other through the house. Thankfully a bunch of my friends that came by to pick me up instead took Joey for a ride, they got a kick out of Joey and I had to calm Linda down before I could leave them alone together again. Of course Joey and Linda get along and love each other very much, they are 10 years apart and Joey was probably about 8 at the time he locked her out, and again just knew how to push her buttons, like my brother Michael knew how to do with me.

One night my mom was working overtime and I took a ride with my father to pick her up. There was a school across the street from her office building and a bunch of kids were coming out of the school and they were cursing up a storm, just being regular teenagers, talking the talk. My father turned around to me, I'm like 25 years old at the time and says, you don't curse. No question, just a statement. I was honest with him, and told him I did, not proud at all, just telling him the truth. He asked like what, what curses to you say, and I told him pretty much everything. He was shocked, he also said he never heard me curse and I told him, he never would. Now my father grew up on the lower east side of NYC, he had a colorful vocabulary and I had heard him curse many many times, but I also knew that it was not acceptable for me to do it. My mom didn't like it if I sad damn growing up or shoot. And I didn't use those words either.

But I do curse. I've slipped a few times over the years with the kids around but really not that much, it's just you wear different hats, not that you're phony, but you have to act different depending on the situation or who you're with. When you're young you don't realize it as much, I mean school teaches you that, but I've walked by schools and that's all I hear outside the school. I know these kids aren't cursing in school, but they come out of the building, get with their group and their conversations just include cursing. Unfortunately I know it's also accepted more in certain homes, my cousin Michele would always curse and I remember her cursing in front of my father, who was shocked that she would and told her to try and not use those words while talking to him. He cursed like I said, but it was usually in anger over something my brothers did, or if he got hurt working on something. Never at us, or in conversation. Wearing a different hat. I'm sure he used some colorful words hanging out at his firehouses when he was on full duty.

Yesterday one of my friends, Lisa S., after reading one of my blogs said I should tell a certain story. I told her I didn't think it was appropriate for the blog I'm trying to write.

I wear different hats, we all do. I'm not perfect. I can be mean, selfish, grumpy. I've done stupid things. I was a Jersey Shore girl and had lots of fun there. I partied but I wasn't anything like what is portrayed by the reality show "The Jersey Shore". I still wouldn't want to put all that out there, about me, or any of my friends. Not that they're secrets, my family and friends know my faults (my good points too) and lots more of my crazy stories, but again, the way I didn't curse in front of my parents when I was a young adult, I'm wearing a different hat on my blog, again not phony, I'm being honest and will continue to do so.

Here's some fun pictures from "down the Jersey Shore" our first summer, innocent silly fun, which basically was who we all were and yes there was some moments that it got a little too crazy, but that was an old hat, for me and my friends, in fact we all lost those hats.

This is me, so beautiful waking up from a night out "down the Shore", wearing my friend Joe's sneakers and the big foot with the little sneaker hanging on the toes is Joe wearing my sneaker. You can see an empty beer bottle in the window and a empty cup of soda or something on the floor. A little "animal house" looking. But so much fun!

This is Pat and Bob, Pat had a great sense of humor and could always take a joke, unfortunately she was often the brunt of all of them, especially from me!



Again, no lies, just a different hat.

My Very Own Traveling Pants

Did you ever see the movie "The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants". It's a sweet movie about young girls becoming young woman and the four of them share a pair of jeans the first summer they are separated after high school graduation. Each of them keeps the pants for a bit and then mails them to the next friend. The pants brought the girls luck and I guess more important, the pants were something the girls shared, more than pants, a part of their lives.

When I was about 12 my brother Michael was dating a girl named Gina. Gina in fact influenced my choice of which high school I would attend and I'm so thankful for that, it was a wonderful part of my life.

Gina had the best clothes. It was still during the hippie era, I guess the end of it, but I do remember thinking she was so cool. I also didn't understand why she was dating my brother Michael as I pretty much couldn't stand him at that age. I wrote about Michael in my "Spelunker" blog just recently and one of my friends commented that she remembered how cute my brothers were. Growing up I was always told how cute my three older brothers were. I didn't get it? A normal sibling observation, at least I think so.

Well Gina gave me a pair of Maverick Jeans. I know my friend Linda has a picture of me in those jeans some time during my high school days, not sure if they were shorts at that time yet. But I wore those pants since I was 12, still have them today and can still fit in them. They do need to be attended to again, I haven't worked on them for years. The last time I wore them was about 8 years ago and I think I'm going to make them into a bag now, maybe my cousin Chrissy can help me? She's much better at sewing than I am, except of course when it comes to sewing people to mattresses!



The patches were all over the pants before they were shorts, again part of the style at that time. I see jeans for sale now with patches on them, but it's not the same as the ones I remember from the hippie era. There were patches on the pants randomly because they covered holes, now they are strategically placed, designed, perfect, neat, that was not the hippie look.

I was 12 when I started wearing these jeans and my mom and my dad washed them and folded them and put them away in my dresser, living in our house in Brooklyn. I was still "playing" at that age. Falling, tripping, ripping my pants. I was just a kid. But I love that my parents washed these pants so many times, saw me in them. Teased me about my patches and the fact that I still had my traveling pants. They remind me how my father used to tease me when he did the laundry. He said he could always tell my pants because I stapled or taped the hems up. They didn't make clothes for short people in those days. I was about 30 or so when I finally could buy a pair of pants and not have to take them up. But my traveling pants were always tended to, they have been on many vacations, spent years "down the Jersey Shore" with me.

I started to add patches not long after I got my Mavericks, again to cover holes. It wasn't too long before the bottom part of the pants just couldn't be patched up anymore and I cut them into shorts. All the patches are little pieces of my history. One of the patches is from an old pair of corduroy pants I loved, another a beach towel and bandana from dates with special men in my past. Some are from shirts I loved that were falling apart and some embroidery, which was basically used to keep the pants from falling apart, especially the seams. My friend Danny is always telling everyone to give me money to buy me new pants when he sees me in my traveling pants. I've been told I could probably sell them too. They are Maverick Jeans from about 1970 or so, and I would guess they were bell bottoms as well.

My friend Teresa saw a picture of me from when I was about 14 or 15 and she cracked up, saying I was a hippie. Teresa is about 13 or so years younger than me, we grew up in different times. I told her I was the farthest from being described as a hippie of anyone. It was just the style. Every girl wore her hair long and straight, parted in the middle. If you had curly hair or wavy hair you put big tin cans in your hair to straighten it or actually used an iron and ironed it. You wore jeans with patches, tie dye shirts. Bell bottoms. Colorful bell sleeved shirts. Vests. Fringed vests and jackets. The times.

But the pants have been in my closet for years, and even though I haven't worn them in a few years I could never bring myself to throw them away or sell them.

By making my traveling pants into a bag I can pass it down to one of my nieces and one of them can start adding their own patches and then pass it down to the next generation of girls in the future generations of my family. That would be a nice feeling while working on my traveling pants again, knowing a piece of me will travel with my great great niece, become my family's Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants. Maybe the world will live in peace at the time my great, great, great niece has the pants, and will be a reminder of all the good hippies who just wanted the world to be a better place, who wanted peace.

PS, I loved this Coca Cola commercial which probably came out during the early days of my traveling pants. If you're my age, I think you will remember that you liked it too.

PEACE MAN!

MADD - Mothers Against Drunk Driving

M.A.D.D.
CAMPAIGN TO ELIMINATE DRUNK DRIVING

Our organization began with a mother who lost her child in a drunk driving crash. She turned grief into positive change; her work and the work of so many other mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers started a movement that has saved 300,000 lives…and counting.

But even today, one in three people will be involved in an alcohol-related crash in their lifetime. Our children share the road with an estimated 2 million drivers who have had three or more prior drunk driving offenses.

Together, we can take three important steps to finish the work of one grieving mother and protect our families from the danger of drunk driving:

Support the heroes who keep our roads safe. High-visibility law enforcement catches drunk drivers and discourages others from driving drunk.
Require convicted drunk drivers to blow before they go. Ignition interlock devices, or in-car breathalyzers, require all convicted drunk drivers to prove they are sober before the car will start.
Turn cars into the cure. Tomorrow’s cars will protect each of us, automatically determining whether or not the driver is above the legal limit of .08 and failing to operate if the driver is impaired.
With your support, the Campaign to Eliminate Drunk Driving will make the future safer for those we love and end drunk driving once and for all. Click here to sign the Campaign pledge.



Okay I'm not a mom, but I'm a sister, an aunt, a cousin, a friend and against drunk driving. I just started driving again 3 years ago. About 1994 or so, while driving into Brooklyn and just about to get on the Verrazano Bridge someone hit me from behind. It took me a minute or two to realize what happened. I was in shock and there were about 10 cars involved in the accident, all of the others left the scene of the accident, the police never came and I was left sitting there for hours waiting for someone to come. No cell phones, so close to the bridge, you would think someone would have reported it, but no one did, I finally drove my car back home which ended up being totaled and I was lucky to have made it home. I drove for a while after that but was nervous, my back tense, constantly checking the rearview mirror, always feeling like someone was going to hit me. Even as a passenger, I wasn't comfortable anymore. I stopped driving. I knew I wasn't a good driver anymore, I was too nervous, anticipating the worst when I got behind the wheel and my accident didn't even involve drunk driving, at least that I know about, maybe it did.

I got a new job 3 years ago and I need to drive to work so I went back and got my permit and my license and starting driving again. I was still a little nervous. Never bothered turning the radio on or off or changing the radio station, just needed to know how the windshield wipers and defrost went on, and that was enough for me. I've gotten way better, back to feeling pretty much the way I did before that accident, very comfortable driving, except when the roads are icy and snowy. A different story, then I'm just nervous because of the road conditions, which I guess I should be. I'm also nervous because I've seen that drivers are crazier and not because they're drunk. I see so many people talking on their cell phones, texting, just driving from lane to lane in such a hurry. I've pulled over more times than I can tell you because some one is in such a hurry to get where they're going and I can't stand that they are so close. And most times I catch up with that driver at the next light or the toll booth going over the bridge. No need to rush.

When I was teenager and in my 20s there wasn't such an awareness about drunk driving. People really did it all the time and you could have a can of beer in your car in a paper bag and actually ask a cop for directions. It's hard to believe but that's the way it was.

I'm sorry and embarrassed to say that my friends and I drove under the influence too many times in our late teens and early 20s. We never caused an accident or got into one, but we were just lucky. We were stupid. My friends that are parents wont even talk about it, sick to death with worry that their kids would do anything as dumb as we did.

I had a friend in high school, Barbara. Barbara was a beautiful girl, kinda looked like Courtney Cox. Barbara was nuts, always pushing everything to the limit as far as our practical jokes went. She got me my first job at Burger King which ended up giving me so many new friends in Staten Island when I first moved here. But we used to call each other BFFs. I thought Barbara made the term up. This was back in 1976 and I had never heard it before. We also had characters called Marvin and Petunia and we used to perform at our school assemblies and our coffee house get togethers. We were BFFs. But my mom didn't care for Barbara and Barbara's mom didn't care for me. My mom could see that I got in just a little more trouble when I hung out with Barbara, and Barbara's mom abused Barbara, physically and mentally, she was a horrible mother. Barbara ran away lots of times and would come to my house and her mom hated that, hated that I knew, she wasn't embarrassed, she was mad. Barbara had 2 brothers and 1 sister but her parents never mistreated them, always Barbara. I felt bad for her, I couldn't imagine what that must be like.

Barbara and I ended up having a falling out the summer after we graduated high school. She got fired from Burger King and for some reason thought I told on her, which I didn't. We both did some crazy stuff while working there (not anything to people's food, we weren't that bad) but again Barbara always pushed it. We both probably deserved to get fired for a few of the antics we were pulling at work but she got caught. She was using the big water sprayer that came out of the wall. We used it to clean the big bins. Barbara climbed the wall like Batman and Robin using the sprayer and it came out of the wall, water busting out all of the kitchen. Nothing to do with me. But she never spoke to me after that. We even used to commute on the same bus to separate secretarial schools in the city and she would ignore me.

I was devastated. I loved Barbara. I didn't like that we weren't friends anymore. I tried to tell her I had nothing to do with it but again she wouldn't speak to me.

Barbara moved to Florida not long after she graduated from secretarial school, I'm sure to get away from her mother. After a night of partying she and another girl drove home drunk. They crashed and the driver and Barbara lived but the driver walked away, Barbara was in a coma for a year and when she woke up, she wasn't Barbara anymore. She couldn't walk very well, had to learn who everyone was and is basically like a 4 year old. She was in a home in New Jersey and her father used to take her home on weekends, to be with the family, he took her to church, I think he was somewhat of a good man, but just didn't have the backbone to stand up to his wife and was at least trying now to make up somehow for not protecting her when she needed him most. Another friend of mine's mom, Mrs. K, played cards with Barbara's mom so I got to hear stories over the years as we both got our haircut at the same place. Eventually Barbara's mother didn't want her home on weekends and moved her up to a home in Massachusetts so she couldn't come home every weekend. Such a sad life. I wrote to her parents, asking to see Barbara but they never responded. I think of Barbara often. I hear the term BFF all the time now, in my heart it will always belong to Barbara.

Last year I went to a 50th year anniversary of the church and school in my neighborhood held in the sports center. I know so many people that went to that grammar school. Barbara and her brothers and sister went there. My friends Tara, Eileen E and G, Pat, even my brother in law Bob and his brother and sister and so many more. The event was celebrating the history and lots of different graduating classes would be there. I went with Tara, invited by our friend Eileen E who never showed up! It was a nice event but I didn't know anyone and Tara only met one girl from her graduating class. I was also hoping to see Barbara's brothers or sister there, even asked at the sign in desk if they were on the list, sadly there weren't. They did have a wall with pictures of all the graduating classes and I saw Barbara's picture, so beautiful seeing her smiling face again.

This is Barbara and I, senior year, when we worked on the year book together.



They have 2 gyms at the sports center and one was set up with tables and that's where some of the priests and nuns and teachers told stories of the old days and then the other room was set up with the food, buffet style. During the speeches, Tara and I just sat on the bleachers not at our assigned table but when we finally got our plates of food we did sit at our assigned table. I was stuffing my face as the food was delicious and Tara was chatting with the guy sitting on the other side of her. He was saying how no one from his graduating class was there either but he came with his brother and there were a few from his class. Then they introduced themselves and he said his name was Billy B. I almost choked. Billy B. was Barbara's first boyfriend. He used to pick us up after school or after we went to the movies as he was 2 years older than us, actually was Barbara's older brother's best friend. I got up right away, trying to swallow my food and still prevent myself from choking and said Billy, it's me Tricia. Tara, again who remembers everything from over 30 years ago to today, said it was like a movie the way we both looked at each other and though it might have looked like we were long lost lovers we just were two people connected to someone who still lives, though doesn't, because of drunk driving.

Billy and I spent the evening talking about Barbara. Billy's married and has kids and I could see his brother looking at him like what's going on. Tara even insinuated, saying the way we were looking at each other. First that's not my style, I don't mess with anyone's man, never did, never will and second, I know what it looked like but it was all about our love for Barbara and sharing our grief and more our happy memories of her and the times we shared with her.

Please don't drink and drive. Please don't text and drive. Please don't drive if you're too tired, it's known to be worse than driving drunk. Please be careful. Be safe!

Spelunker

My brother Michael was competitive in sports, board games, arguments, everything! The youngest of my 3 older brothers, I'm sure he was competing with them and trying to be like them since he was a baby. Bob and Michael are Irish twins, a term used when siblings are born less than a year apart and Jimmy's just a little over a year older than Bob. All my brothers are great at sports and there was a time when Michael and Bob were playing a football game against each other. Everyone asked my mom, including my brothers, who she wanted to win. She said she wanted a tie. I don't remember but I'm sure there were tons of heated discussions before that game, probably got a little physical knowing my brothers. But my mom got her wish, it was a tie and I don't think any of the three of them ever played against each other, as far as I remember. I do remember Michael and Jimmy playing basketball down the park (Rubber Park) almost every night before dinner and always ending up in a fight. My mom would tell them not to play together anymore, but there they were again the next night, competing and fighting.

Michael played basketball with our cousin Doug who is 12 years younger than Michael. And if Doug beat him, Michael would be knocking on Doug's door early the next morning, waking Doug up to come out and play with him so he could beat him. Michael is 16 years older than our youngest brother, Joey, and Joey always had a Nerf basketball hoop in our front foyer and Michael had one in his dining room, Michael was married and a father at the time. Joey was nuts with his Nerf basketball and hoop, had tape down on the floor marking his court. If he played by himself he was the commentator and crowd cheering. If he did something wrong, my father would rip the hoop off the wall, you gotta hit em where it hurts, Joey would do whatever he was supposed to do to get that hoop back up. Eventually the wall on top of the front closet had so many holes we had to redo the wall and no more Nerf hoops! Even with the Nerf basketball games, if Joey beat Michael, Michael would challenge him over and over, sometimes making poor Joey cry, begging my father, please make him stop, he was just a little kid, enough already.

We've had tons of family BBQs at our Aunt Libby and Uncle Richie's house, Michael would get something going, some kind of competition. The yard is tiny, sharing a driveway with their neighbor. Michael started a game one day and that was it, his new challenge to beat everyone. He would take a bunch of bottle caps and line up garbage pails with the tops turned upside down in the driveway. We had to toss the caps into the garbage pail. He set up a line for the girls, gave us a handicap, so even if we won, he would point out that we really didn't win. That was Michael!

I've mentioned before that I wasn't really a sports fan growing up and still am not. Drove me crazy growing up. It was always on TV or the radio and I had to go to all my brothers' baseball games and football games, I had enough of it by the time I was 10.

But fun for me, my family was and still is into playing board games together and when Trivial Pursuit came out we played it at many parties. We got the different versions and played those as well. We really had so much fun. Our latest game, and the kids are really loving this, Left Right Center. It's a game with dice and chips or pennies, but we play with dollars, the kids have won a bunch of times and are always asking to play! I can't blame them, we have a big family, they walk away with a nice stash of cash (usually from Aunt Janet who brings singles for the kids).


We've played Jenga, where no one wants my brother Bob with his fat fingers on their team. We've played Pictionary. Depends on the crowd, there's a nice amount of youngins in the family these days. So Trivial Pursuit hasn't been played in a few years.

Now getting back to Spelunker. Perhaps you know the definition?

Sometimes in the early 80s we were "down the Jersey Shore" and my brother Michael and I were on opposing teams for a game of Trivial Pursuit. It was Michael and his wife Debbie against my friend Tara and me. We were winning and you know when you get to the center of the board, the opposing team gets to pick the category for the final question and you win or wait for your next turn. Michael of course chose the sports category, grinning his evil grin and chuckling, in his glory. He knew I knew nothing about sports and Tara, if possible, even less. The question was: What is a spelunker. A light went on! Tara, who remembers absolutely too much, told me I had a look on my face that was part amazement and confusion! I asked to look at the question so I could see the word. Spelunker? Spelunker? Where did I just read about that.

I had just read an article in Glamor Magazine about spelunking. They probably had really cool pictures that drew me into the story because I really don't think I had any desire to go spelunking at that time in my life, even now...hmmm...I don't know if I would feel comfortable under ground, but I will say as to spelunking, never say never.

I answered Michael with spunk, a spelunker is a cave explorer! Michael was shocked. I was in my glory, I won on the sports category. Me? Sports? I'm sure Michael wanted a rematch, or argued that I read the cards, but my evidence was that article and the look on my face, you could tell that I was even shocked.



You never know, some day you might need to know what a spelunker is? Maybe you'll be playing Trivial Pursuit against an opponent like my brother Michael. You will remember how a somewhat dizzy, sports challenged, little sister got her biggest bust your chops in the worst way big loving brother to wipe that grin off his face. And plus it's a really fun word to say, spelunker. Spelunker...

Over the Verrazano Bridge

I'm from Staten Island. I never thought I'd say that. If you asked me 20 to 25 years ago I would say I'm from Brooklyn but I live in Staten Island. And basically once you get to know me you find out that I've been back and forth over the Verrazano Bridge from Bay Ridge Brooklyn to the South Shore of Staten Island many times. I'm back here in Staten Island now for about 7 years and I never thought I would prefer Staten Island over Brooklyn, but I do. What I'd really prefer is a small house "down the Jersey Shore". I can dream, can't I?

Minus the 4 years we lived in Long Island, half my life has been spent living in Bay Ridge and the other in Staten Island. Bay Ridge is still a great place to live, like a little Manhattan, you can walk everywhere in certain neighborhoods and find restaurants and bars all over the place. Parking is hell. Ask anyone who lives there, there's lots of big beautiful homes on Shore Road with long driveways and garages, but then there's also large apartment buildings, you can spend hours looking for a parking space. My ex, Peter Pan, you might know him? Well he lived there for a couple of years, got so many parking tickets for just parking wherever he wanted because he didn't have the patience to look for a parking space for hours.

I couldn't stand Staten Island when we first moved here. Called it "Static Island". Brooklyn gave me so much more freedom, not that I was doing anything wrong, but I could walk everywhere I needed to go or ride the bus if it wasn't within walking distance. In Staten Island there weren't too many places to go and if you did want to walk anywhere, there weren't and still aren't sidewalks in certain areas. But eventually I found friends in the area, while working at a local Burger King. They introduced me to the wilds of Staten Island and the Jersey Shore and I introduced them to Bay Ridge. My friend Karen and I shared our first apartment in Bay Ridge but we both eventually moved back to our homes in Staten Island. I moved back again, over the Verrazano Bridge and lived there again for about 7 years or so, and as much as I enjoyed certain parts of being back in Bay Ridge, I found I missed quite a few things about Staten Island.

It may be crowded on Staten Island, but there are beautiful parks everywhere, and quiet roads where I can ride my bike and there's no cars around. And not as much as it was when I first moved here but I still see someone ride by on a horse every once in a while.

The sounds at night are different. When Molly and I moved to Brooklyn, she kept me up nights more than the sounds of the busses and people walking by, even though we were six stories up, it sounded like it was right out the window, we both eventually got used to it, but I noticed once we moved back to Staten Island, she was a little calmer, yes older, but she got used to the new sounds quicker, the crickets at night, hardly a car going by and no one walking home from a neighborhood bar yelling at 3 or 4 in the morning, big difference.

Maybe it's because I'm older. Your perspective changes on everything. But I realize how beautiful it was when we first moved out here, when I always saw people riding by on horses, rabbits in the woods behind my house which had no fence blocking the view, walking the snowy empty streets to hang out with my friends when we couldn't drive in bad weather.

Everyone used to cruise down Hylan Boulevard, again in my late teens, early 20s, and there were no houses, the Conference House, a historical landmark was right behind us but I never looked back, didn't care about the history of Staten Island or Brooklyn at that time, now the history of everywhere, everyone intrigues me. I may not be able to afford to travel to all the places I would like to but the internet has opened up a world of information and pictures of places and people I have an interest in. I read a book and will look up an area they mention or an historical place or character when reading or watching a movie. So much information out there at the touch of my fingertips!

I love history. Love watching the History Channel and other channels like it. Yesterday I watched a show about Benjamin Franklin. I've always missed the beginning or the end of this show and yesterday again just caught parts of it, but he was an amazing man, he created the US postal system and the first circulating libraries in the US. He invented, among other things, bifocal glasses, a wood stove. He never took a patent on any inventions so that other people could benefit from his inventions. He assisted with the drafting of the Constitution and the Bill of Rights. He was America's first ambassador to France. He owned and franchised many of his printing presses, a concept unheard of before him. A great American.

I watched the HBO special on John Adams. You can rent the series if you didn't catch it. Another amazing founding father, President of the United States, a great American. A man who listened to, needed and cherished the opinions of his wife, what a man! Especially during that era. The movie is based on a book of letters that John and his wife shared, she was a founding mother.

So yesterday I went out to take pictures of the fall foliage, not as advanced here as it is upstate plus the crazy weather we're having, but it's getting there and some of the pretty sights right outside my own front door. I also drove out to the Conference House, my first time after all the years I have lived here.

Just one of the many stops along Hylan Boulevard by the water where you can pull over and see Sandy Hook in New Jersey.












From Wikipedia:
Peace Conference held at Staten Island Conference House.
On September 11, 1776, Lord Howe, commander in chief of British forces in America, met with representatives of the Continental Congress in a peace conference to try and end the American Revolution. Benjamin Franklin, John Adams, and Edward Rutledge rowed over from patriot-held Perth Amboy, New Jersey. The meeting lasted for three hours and ended with the Americans politely declining Howe's offer, leading to another seven years of conflict.


When I was at the Conference House it was surreal. Standing where Benjamin Franklin and John Adams stood. I looked at the trees, huge trees surrounding the house and wondered if they were there from long ago?



They arrived from Jersey, it's so close you could swim to Perth Amboy, NJ from that point in Staten Island.



Amazing history on Staten Island, the land and the people. There are still quiet beautiful winding roads, surrounded by the greenbelt, for miles, and you can walk the trails. Historic Richmond Town too, that's my next venture, I only went there for a party, held in restaurant that had been an old home restored, but I don't know that it is one of the homes restored from the 18th century.

I love learning about so many things these days, I wish I was like this when I was in school, so much wasted time!

Here's some of my fall foliage shots from this weekend and the Conference House...just over the Verrazano Bridge.

What's In A Name?

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet."

Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet (II, ii, 1-2)


I know what Shakespeare wrote is true but I also think our names define us in a way, may add to certain traits of our personalities.

Did you ever see the TV show "The Big Bang Theory", it's really funny. I just started watching it because it's in syndication and they are playing it on a few different channels later in the evening. I never got home early enough from work to watch it until now. It's about these nerdy scientists and last night one of the guys said he wanted to change his name. His name is Leonard. He said even "nerd" was part of his name. Poor Leonard. But maybe you know a guy named Leonard who is super smart, sexy, funny, loving. Changes the name Leonard. Maybe you know a mean Leonard, again changes the name Leonard.

I've met people over the years with not your run of the mill names. I don't mean like it is now, meeting people from all over the world with names I never heard of. One of my cousins married a guy from India, we just call him Sundar but his name is way longer than that. When he first introduces himself he just says call me Sundar and if you ask his full name and he tells you, you say, okay Sundar it is. But people with names like Apple or Brooklyn, etc. They stand out. People seem to remember their names and they are maybe just a bit more popular because of their name. Defining them.

I wrote not long ago how my nephew Jojo wanted to be called Joe. It just hasn't happened and he seems not to care about that right now. There's a chance it could become a big deal again at some point in his life but I think it will just get harder as he gets older. Someone is always saying, oh Jojo! He's hard not to notice. He's really really funny, and he does very well in school but outside of school, you need to call Jojo a dozen times to make him look at you and pay attention. Again I'm always hearing his name for one reason or another. Jojo. I can't think of him without thinking Jojo. Jojo got his name from his brother Robert who is a little less than 2 years older. He started it as a baby and it just became his name.

My name is Tricia. Legally, Patricia. My grandmother always called me Patricia and I can vaguely remember being called it by some of my cousins and my older brothers. I became Tricia because my younger sister by 2 years, Linda, couldn't say Patricia and called me Tricia. In grammar school some of the teachers would call me Pat and I never looked up. I just never considered it my name and after hearing Pat being called out a few times I would look up and around the class to see who wasn't paying attention, still not realizing it was me. In grammar school, I would never tell my teachers that my name was not Pat, but it really wasn't. Those who know me are nodding their heads in agreement right now, I'm not Pat or Patti. I'm Tricia. When I go to the doctors or the bank or somewhere I have to sign my name, I always write Patricia and then people will right away call me Pat. Now I'm sitting in the doctor's office and they're calling out Pat and I'm looking around to see who's not paying attention! Tricia is much more popular now than it was when I was growing up. I knew lots of Patricias in school and they were all called by their full names or Pat and Patti.

Two of my closest friends are named Patricia. What's the chance of that? We hung out together for years and still every once in a blue moon are all together at a party here and there. But I'm Tricia. Patti is Patti and Pat is Pat. When my friend Kathy first started hanging out with us she would always get confused over who was Pat and who was Patti. She would be saying something and I would be so confused if she was talking about Pat and meaning Patti and then I would be, duh, no Kathy, you mean Patti, not Pat. She still does it once in a while to this day, and I still get confused.

As I've mentioned I always wanted to be an actress. I grew up watching the old time movie stars who were forced by their studios to change their names. From Norma Jean to Marilyn? I like Norma Jean better, what about you? And I've never met a Marilyn. Are there a lot of woman out there named after her? Or did moms not name their daughters Marilyn thinking it was a too sexy a name for a baby? I personally don't know any Marilyns.

I also don't know if that happens so much anymore, actors and actresses changing their names, maybe it does, I think more people want to keep their names, it has defined them, they're proud of their names. I guess the only reason now anyone would do it is if you shared the same name as someone already famous. Do you know who Fannie Flagg is? Well she is an actress, used to be on Candid Camera and was on dozens of game shows and TV shows. She is also one of my favorite authors. She writes the most beautiful stories. You may have seen a movie from one of her books, "Fried Green Tomatoes". Well again the book is better, they always are...check out her books, really, you will feel so good after reading one. Just a great story teller. You fall in love with the characters. And Fannie Flagg's real name is Patricia too. Patricia Neal. But she couldn't use her real name because there was an Academy Award winning actress with that name. The other Patricia Neal, may she rest in peace, just passed away last year at 84 years old. You might remember her from "Breakfast at Tiffany's". She was the wealthy married lady "taking care of" George Peppard's character. She also played Olivia Walton in "The Homecoming", the movie that led to the TV series "The Waltons", among many more movies and television shows. So the other Patricia Neal became Fannie Flagg, I wonder how she chose that name? What would I want to be called if it couldn't be Tricia. I think it would be so hard to choose. Again I feel it defines me. I'm Tricia.

When parents name their children, so much thought goes in to what that name will be. What will his or her nickname be. I know lots of women who have had favorite names picked out for their children ever since they can remember, but then their married name doesn't match. I just went to a wedding this past spring and the bride was named Carol and she married a guy with the last name Carol! She's Carol Carol. What's the chance! My sister Debbie loved the name Chloe forever and always wanted to name her little girl Chloe but it just doesn't sound well with her last name and I can't imagine Ashley as Chloe, she's just Ashley, it fits.

My family happens to have a lot of weird connections with the same names. My parents were James and Alice and after my dad passed away, my second dad was Bo, a nickname for Robert, don't ask me why, I don't know. Bo grew up on lower east side of Manhattan and even had great friend named Robert who was also nicknamed Bo. Maybe it was popular in his neighborhood. My oldest brother was named James and both he and my father were called Jimmy. Big Jimmy and Little Jimmy. Although Bo was Bo to us, and was when he worked in the firehouse, when he was working light duty for the FDNY he would get calls from the office and they would ask for Bob. I always told them Bob didn't live here anymore, that was my brother, another NYC Firefighter. My brother Michael married a girl named Debbie, my sister Debbie married a guy name Mike. My brother was always called Michael and my brother in law has always been Mike. Mike has 3 brothers, two the same names as my brothers. Brother Bob and brother Jimmy. After my brother Michael passed away, my sister in law Debbie married a guy named Jim. Jim's family called him Jamie but we met him as Jim. Jim has a son who is also named Jamie. When Jim's family is talking about Jamie we always think it's Jim's son, we get confused, as you might be now. And Jim's last name was the name of the town my sister Debbie was living in at the time Jim became part of our family. My sister Linda married a Bob, who's parents were named Bob and Alice and this Bob was also a NYC Firefighter, graduated from the Academy in the same class as my father Bo (again short for Robert/Bob). My nephew Robert was named after Bo and he was originally going to be called Bo but he ended up always being called Robert or "Rah" as Jojo started has starting calling him that. Had he been called Bo, his family would have consisted of Bella, Bo, Jojo and his parents Joe and Jo. Are you confused! We lost touch with my father's side of the family for years and have recently been connected and even there we found another connection. My brother Bob and my cousin Steven both named their daughters Jessica.

So much in a name. You can instantly like someone when you meet them because of their name, they share the name of someone very dear to you and you connect a little easier just because of the comfort of that name. Works the other way too, when you know an ugly person (I mean on the inside) and then meet a person with that name, you might get a bad vibe just because of the name. I know most moms and dads didn't name their kids after people they didn't like. Never wanting to be reminded of that person while holding your beautiful baby.

I've often asked my Aunt Libby why I was named Patricia. She doesn't remember really, just like I am now, with all these kids in the family it gets confusing who said what, who did what, you can remember a funny incident but you just know it was one of the kids. I'm the fourth child. When my parents had my 3 older brothers, they had the boys names picked out and if any of them had been a girl, it would of been Debbie, my father's favorite name. I wonder if my father loved Debbie Reynolds too! I will ask Aunt Libby but I kinda think she or my mom would have mentioned that to me years ago. But by the time I came along, they changed their minds and named me Patricia and I guess still weren't thinking about the name Debbie when my sister Linda came along. Debbie was born after our father passed away, my mom always felt she was a special gift my father left behind, and she named her Debbie, his favorite name. She may not have known him, but she has to remember she has his favorite name. Something special.

I made these little tags for Jojo's 4th birthday party bag. Just got a really cute picture of him, but had him sign his name which makes the tags so precious. I punched a hole in them and tied a ribbon to a clear plastic bag. They were really easy to make, again you can get clear plastic bags at Michael's Craft store or any craft store in your neighborhood. I love that I have his signature at 4 years old. I hope he likes looking at it years from now. And I wonder if he will still be Jojo.

Couch Potatoes

These are some of the couch potatoes in my life, my brothers Bob and Joey, cousins Doug and Dennis and brother in law Mike. My whole life there have been boys, men, "the guys" sitting on the couch watching sports while all the women are cooking and cleaning up. And a lot of the women in my life are big sports fans, as I've mentioned my mom one of the biggest. (And Doug I know I still have to make you a t-shirt with this picture!)

I come from a large family, 2 sisters and 4 brothers. When I was growing up, my sister Linda and I had to clean off the table after dinner and do the dishes. Every night probably since I was about 12 and Linda 10. Debbie was much younger than us and by the time she was old enough to help she got out of it by doing a terrible job, on purpose. My mother or father would just tell her to let us do it. Let us do it? Thanks Deb! My 3 older brothers had to get the milk at a cute store 2 blocks away, the Milk Farm. They sold milk in those old-fashioned glass bottles and had the best chocolate milk, so chocolatey you could mix the bottle with half regular milk and still have the tastiest glass of chocolate milk. With 7 kids who were all big milk fans the boys did have to carry about 12 quarts a day in a steel carrier that could fit 6 bottles in it, they did have to carry two of them and I know it was heavy but they were teenagers and could handle it. I certainly didn't see going to the store as big a chore as cleaning off the table and doing the dishes for 9 people every night. They split the chore as well, each doing it a different day. Every day dinners in our house were at least 9 people and we pretty much had a guest or two along with that. My Aunt Kathy and Uncle Richie were constantly there during those years.

After every holiday dinner that has sports involved in any way, the guys in my life get up and go sit and watch TV while the women clean up. That's the way it was, that's the way it is. There have been times where the guys say they will do it and they do, but it's rare and most times there's usually one or two of the women helping out. I will say that the men in my life are also very good in their own homes during non holiday times, non-sports times. They do the dishes, take care of the kids, cook, clean. But when there's a game on, there they all are, picking their favorite spot before dinner and going right back there as soon as dinner is over.

They never give a thought to the clean up. Again I will saying if there are no sports on, they are great. But if one of us girls gets up, you'll always see another one or two pop up, getting ready for the clean up. I can't just sit there or go sit on the couch. I'm like a trained dog, I start to help clean off the table. Years ago I remember starting a discussion about how it must feel to just go and sit and the couch and not have that gut reaction to get up and start helping to clean off the table. I can go on sit on the couch after I've offered to help and been told no thanks, but I still feel weird sitting on the couch and not doing something. I don't think the guys feel that way at all. Again I think they are great men and I'm not bashing them here, it's just the way we were trained as kids. The boys in my family had certain jobs, taking out the garbage and going to the Milk Farm. When we were growing up they were never expected to clean off the table. That was the girls job. I bet it was like that in a lot of homes during the time I grew up.

I know things are changing and guys help out way more in this generation then men did when I was growing up. But I also grew up during the times when dads went to work and moms stayed home and took care of the house. A lot of kids now have grown up watching both their parents go out to work, sharing the household duties, taking care of the kids. I wonder if the next generation of men will have that gut reaction to just get up and help with the clean up and dishes after big family dinners. I don't know. I watch my niece Bella with her two older brothers. Bella is 6, Jojo 9 and Robert 11. She came into the world with crazy wild brothers. She watched what they watched on TV, Power Rangers, wrestling, all kinds of sports and boys action films, what ever they watched. She's a tough cookie, great at sports, smart, opinionated, but there's still that little girl that comes out as she plays with one of her dolls or a stuffed animal. Just different from her brothers. She loves to help out, setting the table and even cleaning up afterwards. It's not every time but more often than not. She is proud of helping out, acting all grown up setting every thing up and gabbing away. Her brothers will put their dishes in the sink but again if not constantly told they will just get up and go out or play their video games or be the youngest couch potatoes in my life! I don't think any of our parents tried to raise us differently, I think they just do what their guts are telling them with their sons and daughters. We're different, from girls and boys to women and men.

As far as couch potatoes. Nature versus nurture? I say nurture!

Oh Little Playmate, Come Out and Play With Me

I was thinking about all the hand clapping games we used to play as kids, and even in my teens and early 20s, we would all try to remember the words. And jump rope games, Lincoln, Lincoln, I've been thinking, what's that stuff that you've been drinking...I don't remember the rest of that one. I have to ask my sister Linda if she remembers. We played so many games like that growing up, and I know even from Brooklyn to Staten Island and Long Island, there were slight differences in the games. I wonder how long these little songs have been around and how different the words are across the miles.

It's funny how things start and you never know why. Families do things and pass it down, it becomes a tradition. Something you don't really mean to make a tradition, it just happens.

When we were kids my mom always made us "soup and soldiers". The soldiers were just white buttered bread cut in long slices to dunk in your soup. We ask the kids now if they want soup and soldiers, especially when they're sick, it's our family tradition. Not too long ago I saw the former Princess Fergie on the View. She mentioned "soup and soldiers" and the hosts asked her what it was. She said it was something her mother did and she think it started during World War II with kids making toy soldiers out of everything. My great grandmother is from England and I guess that's where our "soup and soldiers" tradition started.

I think it would be a wonderful tradition to pass on to the little girls in our lives the jump rope games and clapping hands games we used to play. I loved them, my sisters, and my friends and cousins too. I know with my oldest niece, Irene, I taught her all kinds of songs and games, I was much younger, I remembered so much more than I do now. I got her hooked on so many of the songs I loved. In fact I got her hooked on the movie "My Fair Lady", she was so young, still asking to rewind every movie she watched. My father used to love that movie until Irene discovered it, he couldn't believe how many times she watched it. I of course was in my glory, my little buddy loving the movies I did, and I never mind watching a movie I love over and over again. Though again, it's one of those things that is a big change since I was a kid. I loved waiting for that special night the Wizard of Oz would be on TV. A yearly event, a special night, you did whatever your parents told you that day, all day, yes I'll take a bath early, yes my homework is done, but I want to be in front of that TV before even the first note of music in the film started. Magic!

I'd like to teach Ashley, Gracie and Bella some of these games. Pass down that tradition. I wonder if it's just too old fashioned and they would be bored playing? For me it's just another perfect part of growing up, playing simple games in the streets, parks and schoolyards.

One of my favorite hand clapping game was "Oh Little Playmate". I found this video on youtube and the girls are so cute but they sing different words. When I was a kid it was: Oh little playmate, come out and play with me and bring your dollies three, climb up my apple tree, slide down my rainbow and through my cellar door and we'll be jolly friends for ever more, more, more. Oh little playmate, I cannot play with you, my dolly has the flue, boo hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo, can't slide down no rainbows into your cellar door, but we'll be jolly friends for ever more, more, more.



I also loved Miss Mary Mac? And Miss Lucy Had A Steamboat.

Do you remember?

Share some of your hand clapping games, your jump rope games.





Slide down that rainbow today!

I'm The Greatest Star

I grew up listening to my mom's music. I was always "borrowing" her albums and she would always be asking me where they were. Frank Sinatra was her favorite. But she loved Dean Martin, Johnny Mathis, Nat King Cole and show tunes, lots of show tunes. And I loved it too, more than any of my brothers and sisters. My mom also loved to watch musicals and would tell me which ones I would like and she was always right. As much as my mom didn't want me to go into show business, she was probably the most influential without meaning to be.

I think she saw Funny Girl on Broadway? I have to ask my aunt about that, but she saw the movie before I did and told me to go see it, she told me I was going to love it, which I did. I remember the theater it played in, the Dyker on 86th Street and I was hooked from the song "I'm the Greatest Star", which became my song. I sang it all the time, my friends and family have heard it a million times. My mother always asked me to sing it at family parties. And I wasn't shy about getting up and doing it. And as much as I'm far from shy these days, I just haven't sang that song in years. I had entered talent shows on vacations (not any with prizes) but that was always my song. And the orchestra never knew the song. I tried to explain it. I told them you know, it's mostly "shtick" (routine, gimmick). They somehow put a beat to my routine and it came out great. No comparison the great Barbra by any means. But when I saw that movie I was hooked on show business even more than I already had been. That song was something I wanted to go out and sing in the streets. Which maybe I didn't but as I said, I sang it everywhere for everyone.





My friend Jules gave me a book about the real Fanny Brice, quite different from the movie. She was an amazing woman, fought her way from the bottom and made a great career for herself. She had a radio program, The Baby Snooks Show. A character she created that grew into one of the most popular radio programs of the time. Shtick. She had a funny voice and just did weekly routines.

I love doing different voices, that would have been a fun career, one I never thought of growing up, but do now. I know it's never too late, I just still am not sure what I want to be when I grow up!

My friend Tara laughs every time I answer the phone when she calls. I don't realize it, but she says I always say "hello Tara" in a silly voice, different all the time. It started because I was imitating our friend Pat. Pat had a problem with words with the letter "R". She called Tara "Tava". My named sounded like Tricia but it still wasn't exactly how everyone else said it. When she was pregnant with her first child she was thinking about naming the baby Sarah if she had a girl. We cracked up. The poor girl would grow up thinking her name was "Sava". Thank goodness Pat had two boys, no "Rs" in either names!

When I was in high school I was not one of the music director's favorite students. Just a bit of a trouble maker...where angels go, trouble follows...just the way it goes, not everyone is going to like you. In my junior year, as part of the chorus, I had two small lines in our show "Babes in Arms". I wanted to make those lines stand out. I wanted to stand out. At dress rehearsal I asked the director if I could wear these funky glasses I had and also speak in a high pitched dimwit kind of voice. She agreed but warned all the cast that if they laughed during rehearsal I would have to go back to doing the lines straight. She said everyone had to "act" like I always talked like that, nothing to laugh at. She was an awesome music teacher, very professional and had instilled that in all of us. Our shows may have been on a little stage, nothing fancy, but we were great, our art teacher also awesome, put together sets that were beyond anything I had seen before. She has her own studio on Staten Island now, with art classes for all ages, you can have kids parties there and she designs great centerpieces and amazing designs for all kinds of parties. Check out her website www.siwizard.com or visit the store - The Wizard of Art, 253/55 Nelson Avenue, Staten Island, New York.

I remember my parents being so impressed with our shows. Not just because their daughter was in the show, they honestly said they were pleasantly surprised at how much they enjoyed themselves. The music teacher, Mrs. S., would not accept anything but perfection. My two lines were a hit, people paid attention to me, I stood out. Even when I was singing in the chorus in the background, people were watching me, what would the kooky chic do next.



In case you can't tell, I'm the nerdy looking chic on the left in the red and white shirt and red bows in my hair.

In high school I also created two characters, Marvin and Petunia. I was Petunia and one of my best friends, Barbara, was Marvin. We copied from "The Carol Burnette Show". Both Carol and Tim Conway had characters where they played really old people, walking really slow and talking funny. Barbara and I started performing Marvin and Petunia skits at one of our Coffee Houses we used to have at our high school. Get togethers where students and teachers would play guitars and sing and put on skits. They were great nights. After that first night, Marvin and Petunia became very popular. Barbara, not wanting to be an actress, but absolutely nuts like me, unfortunately way nuttier than me, but that's a story for another day, she was so nervous the first night we were going to perform, almost didn't go on stage and somehow I talked her into it. She was great, just got right into the character, not thinking about the audience at first, but then she heard the laughter, everyone was really enjoying what we were doing and she lost the jitters and played to the audience. She got that feeling when you perform, it's such a high!

Here I am in Jamaica at one of my talent shows singing "I'm the Greatest Star". The next day lots of staff and guests were calling me Barbra. A super nice compliment! They were also calling my sister Linda, Gloria, all week when we were there. At the time Linda worked as a bank teller and a woman named Gloria who she worked with, wrote her name on absolutely everything. Her stapler, her stool, her tape dispenser, just anything that she could write her name on, she did it. Linda's friend at work ( still her friend), Ellen, changed the words to the song "Gloria". "Gloria, you got your own stap-a-ler, you got your stool too..." It was a funny song. When Linda told us the story we just started calling her Gloria and the staff did too. I remember one of the last days we were there she was trying to explain to one of the staff that her name was really Linda, not Gloria. He didn't believe her. Why would she be Gloria all week and now she's saying her name is really Linda. I'll always think of Linda as Gloria from our trip to Jamaica.

And then on my cruise from Los Angeles to Mexico. A great vacation with my friends Irene and Patti. We had another roommate, a nice girl I worked with. We had all gone out for drinks a few times and planned the vacation and got along but once we were on the trip she was all into rules and regulations. So angry that we missed breakfast every morning when meanwhile we were just going to bed at breakfast time. We made up a song about throwing her overboard. We wouldn't do it! Really! But we sang the song throughout the cruise.

The cruise was filled with kids just graduating from college. We assumed the cruise was their gifts for graduation, especially since a bunch of them were thrown off at the first port of call. I don't think if they paid all that money for a cruise they would have been in any situation to get them thrown off, what do you think?! Then there was a much older crowd, and honestly more our style as we were in our 30s. We had all our meals at the same table with the same table mates. Ours were two older couples and they were great company, we got along, all of us loved wine with dinner and took turns buying a nice bottle of wine to share with the table (all except the one we wanted to throw overboard!) We played Bingo with them one night and even that was fun, big prizes and Irene won. I visited California a few years later by myself and went to dinner with one of the couples, I can't even remember their names, I can see the faces when I think about them. Just some more great people that have passed through my life.

Also Dennis Johnson "DJ" and his wife were on the cruise, both just about our age too. (Dennis played basketball for the Boston Celtics, among other teams). We socialized quite a few times during the cruise and of course I invited them to come see me perform and they did. They were a great couple and Dennis would tease Patti and me as we were shorter than his 12 year old son. I have a picture of Dennis, Patti and me somewhere in my collection of pictures and cards. We look like the munchkins in the Wizard of Oz standing next to Dorothy. Dennis sadly passed away in 2007, way too young. He was really a nice guy, I'm glad to have met him. May he rest in peace.

When I performed on the cruise I followed an act by the cutest little girl named Britney, she was about 9 or 10 years old. She was a pro, had a costume and her own music on tape. Three times they messed up starting the tape, she started and stopped when the music was off and stood calm and ready to start again and like I said it was three times. Her act was great, she sang and tapped danced, a natural. And I had to follow this cutie. I was off partying with my friends all day and night and didn't have time to go to the rehearsal. I quickly told the orchestra what I was doing, my shtick, and they were awesome, coming up with some background music that fit in perfectly. I did my best to make them forget about cute little Britney and give this girl from Brooklyn a chance to show them her stuff. Trust me, I can't sing at all like Barbra, not then, not now. But I have her chutzpah (hutzpah), that's nerve in Brooklynese (actually Yiddish)!

At this age I may not have the chutzpah to sing in public like I used to, but I have it in ways I never did in my 30s and 40s. My 50s so far are awesome. I feel the most comfortable in my skin, in myself, than I ever did. And though I'm not as tough in ways that I should be, I still have a little of that Brooklyn chutzpah in me and the older I get the more of that is coming out of me.

I'm still the greatest star!

Hello. Aunt Tricia?

I needed to have a day to myself yesterday. I'm always running around. I work 2pm to 9pm but still wake up early every morning, get my laundry done, go to the stores and stuff, and everyone else is at work so it's less hectic. But by the time I'm ready to go to work, I'm ready for a nap. Most nights I get stuck at work later than 9 and I'm physically and mentally exhausted by the time I get home. I watch TV and just fall asleep instantly, I don't know why I even turn it on. On Saturdays I usually spend the day with my brother's kids in some way, either watching one of them while he takes the other to sports practice or games, parties, and also because I want to spend time with them as well. I enjoy going to their games or just talking to them. It won't be long before they wont have this kind of time to spend with me. I cherish these times.

But now I'm setting an alarm on Saturday mornings. I haven't had to set an alarm to wake up for years working the hours I do. It's very different waking up to any kind of alarm as opposed to just waking up naturally. I was always one of those persons that pushed the snooze button. Way too many times. I've never been good with alarm clocks and probably the biggest arguments I had with my mom were of her waking me up after I pushed snooze too many times and then she would wake me and I'd yell at her to let me sleep. Then I would oversleep the next morning and ask her why she didn't wake me! The nerve huh!?

So this past Saturday I set my alarm, went to Joey's to watch Bella and take her to her basketball practice and game at 10:30 while Joey took the boys to Robert's 9:00 basketball game but ended up going to Robert's game until Bella and I had to leave for her game. During our drive, Bella told me that her dog Mugsy was sleeping over her dad's house that night and she was so happy. They sleep together at her mom's and lay their head together on the pillow. Mugsy loves being under the blankets too. After Bella's game I had a few hours and then took her to 4 o'clock Mass. She again told me how happy she was that Mugsy was sleeping over. She has a rabbit, Nibbles, 2 cats Winters and Summer, and Mugsy. She's was born an animal lover, you can just tell.

I was glad Mugsy was sleeping over because otherwise Bella would ask me to come over after church or later that evening. I love that she wants to be with me, and again I know it wont be long before she's all grown up, but I was tired and looking forward to a quiet night and sleeping Sunday morning until I just woke up. And it's so hard to say no to any of them. I have to remember what my niece Irene told me, no to anyone is yes to me. (I'm trying Irene!)

Early Sunday morning my phone rang. It was my brother's cell phone and I answered thinking it was something important, he knew I was looking forward to my Sunday me time. I said hello and hear, Aunt Tricia? My Bella, my beautiful Bella! But I could tell just by the way she said my name she wanted something. She went through this whole story about how Mugsy slept over and she was still lying in bed with him all cozy and then she sounded sad, and I knew what was coming. Robert had another basketball game and she wanted me to come over and hang with her and Mugsy. I didn't have to say no, but I did some fancy footwork with Bella and got her on to another subject and then someone else was calling in on my phone. I told her I had to answer it and I would call her back, she started to ask what she wanted but she's smart, she knew she needed to get back to that sad voice, set the scene, and make me have no choice but to go and watch her and Mugsy. She plays me well that girl!

I took my other call and then call my brother back. He didn't even know Bella called me and said they were all already on their way to Robert's game and Bella was fine, Mugsy was still at his house and she would have him all afternoon. I was so happy. No guilt, a day to myself!

I drove out to Tottenville to the Conference House, so peaceful and a perfect fall day and then stopped at a nice scenic point by the water. There are many parts of Staten Island that are still so beautiful, greenbelt protected land for miles. When I first moved out here I couldn't stand it. I couldn't believe after growing up in Brooklyn I was watching people ride by on their horses. You still see a few today, but not nearly as many as there were in the late 70s when we first moved here. Now I long for those days. So much less traffic. Old beautiful homes with big yards. I would ride my bike on roads with no cars for miles.

But everything changes.

When I was Bella's age I don't think I knew how to call anyone up. Didn't realize that people had different phone numbers. And I don't think I started really making calls to my friends until high school age. All my friends were outside my front door before that. I just went and "called for them" to come out and play.

In my lifetime there have been so many amazing changes in every aspect of my life, all part of a future I never imagined, I don't think any of us did. I watch my nieces and nephews with their cell phones, even Bella using my brother's phone. She knows how to use a cell phone better than I do. Jojo more amazing. Recently my friend Teresa said her two year old daughter told her she wanted to text her daddy. Two years old and this is part of her vocabulary! I watch kids' little fingers moving over the mouse area on a laptop, I can't even do that. They used to ask me how to spell things before they were even in school so they cold find the websites they wanted and are amazing typists even using the hunt and peck system. And though my cell phone doesn't have a key pad, I've watched kids and teens and older, move their thumbs so quick while texting, again something I don't do very well. The buttons are so small, I'm always hitting the wrong key. And I'm a fast typist, been doing it for a living for too many years, but not on those little cell phone buttons.

At 52 I have many friends who don't really know a lot about computers. They just weren't exposed to it in their jobs and now their kids are making their heads spin with all they know. My friend Tara often has me check her kids Facebook pages, she has no idea what it is, often refers to it as My Space or some other name. She does know enough that she has to keep tabs on them and tries but she just doesn't get it. My brother Bob, just a few years older than me finally has a cell phone and an email address as he has a daughter and this is how he gets to keep in touch. My sister Linda, when she texted me the first time, I was shocked. But she said she does it all the time now, it's the only way her kids respond, if she calls them they don't pick up but if she texts them they reply. A new world.

I can only imagine what my parents would think of all this, the generation before mine. My parents were amazed by cable and VCRs.

When I was a kid and into my 20s, there was always a radio playing in the kitchen. My mom loved to listen to music or her baseball games, having her homemade score card on the counter, cooking, baking, and stopping to keep score. She went through a talk show radio phase as well, I don't remember the name of the show, just it being on.

In the morning it was always 10.10 news. Whenever I hear that radio station it sends me back to those snowy winter days, anxiously awaiting to hear the closure of the schools in our area. When I got my own apartment, I put 10.10 news on in the mornings, it comforted me, made my apartment really feel like my new home, without it, it was like "waking up on the wrong side of the bed". I worked at RKO Radio Networks then, in the early 80s. I was in the newsroom often and even there, with satellite radio, when they broadcast the news it sounded like it was coming in over the wire with that click in the background, a sound effect. I think still used on 10.10 news, though I haven't listened to AM radio in so long. I can get FM in my car, my 93 Infinite I call Ida, but the antenna is gone and I guess that's why I can't get AM??

When I first drove my car, well not my car, the car I was driving, it only had AM Radio so when I was looking to buy my first car all I wanted was FM Radio and air conditioning. I didn't care about anything else. Didn't matter if it had mechanical problems, just as long as it had FM Radio and air conditioning. That car did not last very long. Duh! Live and learn, now all I care about is if my car will keep on going and getting me safely back and forth from wherever I go. I talk to her and thank her every time she starts up and and gets me to my destination. If the radio goes or air conditioning, I don't care, just keep going Ida!!!

I remember my brother Jimmy's first record player, the Beatles records on 45s. I remember the record player on top of the dresser in the boys room..bunk beds with a trundle bed underneath...three of them in that small room. The record player was Jimmy's, we could listen but no touching. I got my own for one of my birthdays, maybe at 8 or 9 years old. And record players kept evolving, now stereos and then cd players.


45s and albums...45 rpm and 33 1/3 rpms...a zillion years ago. Telling kids what a record was is enough, what difference did it make what size it was, archaic to them. Remember we needed those plastic doohickeys to put in the center of the 45s. I guess record players came with them, but we lost them and needed buy those plastic doohickeys, and you lost them too. Then you would try to recreate the doohickey, which never worked, the record went around and round in a loopy way and the music sounded the same. And the needles? You had to blow the dust off, sometimes I used a penny on top of the arm to make an old needle work, you had to replace those, and I never did it enough.



I loved going to 86th Street in my neighborhood, the shopping area. At Woolworths and the record store for hours picking out my 45s or an album. Sometimes spending hours in there just looking. Now not only do we have cds, you can just download music from your computer and you don't even have to go to the store to buy it. Satellite radio. Again a future I never imagined.





And then came the walkman, first just the radio, which was too cool, I loved blasting it on the bus ride to work, but when they added the cassette feature, I liked that the best. Again I could choose from my zany diverse selection of music. Depending on my mood of the day, making "mixed tapes" of my favorites.




Much like I am today with my ipod, I'd rather listen to the music I like than once in a while hearing a song on the radio that I might like or these days even know! I'm constantly asking my niece and nephews, Bella, Jojo and Robert, 6 to 11, who's singing on the radio, they know them all.

And I love to hear them singing along. I don't ask them to sing louder, I have to pretend like I don't notice, but oh I do notice, it is heaven, even when I don't like the song.

I imagine a future now with my great nieces or nephews calling me up and hologram of them appearing...Hello Aunt Tricia.