an honest mistake

The other day i walked out of ShopRite without paying for my reading glasses. I had a lot on my mind. It's been that way forever. ADD? I don't know. Maybe. Something like overload. I was having a 'girls party', you see, where you get the girls together and sell some product. In the rush to get everything i needed for my 'tastefully simple' gig, I had inadvertently shoved the glasses in my bag. I decided it would be OK to go ahead and use them, since I had every intention of going back and paying for them. So tonight I went back to pay for them.

Of course i can't just go in and take care of my debt. I had to fill my arms to overflowing with other items. I get up to the cashier with my arms brimming and dump everything on her conveyor belt. I hand her another pair of the same kind of glasses just so she can ring them up. You see, I had already discarded the tag on the ones I had inadvertently walked off with.

She didn't get it. She kept handing me the glasses. " Here, these are yours."

"No, Maam, I already have the glasses in my bag here. I walked out with them on Friday. I just wanted to pay. Better late than never."

"Well....you are a very honest person."

" Actually, I should have paid sooner."

" So take these."

"I already have the ones I took on Friday... in my bag. Just paying with that tag."

" You are VERY honest."

"Well. come on, if I don't pay for them" I reasoned. "I'd be a thief."

" I am not implying that you are a thief. Only that most people would not bother to come back and pay for them."

"Ok, I just don't think it's a big deal when you walk out with something and come back to pay for it later. If anything you look like a scatterbrain or a thief with a conscience. Or you come out looking like some kind of wonderful person. Honest. I really don't want to draw attention here."

"It's just nice that you came back."

"Well"...and then it came out. "HOW COULD I NOT? I've been driving around for a year with a pair of cheap earrings I walked out of Walmart with, and have to bring those back too.". OH no. Did I just tell that?

I just can't get away with anything. Driving around with cheesy earrings which I inadvertently lifted from Walmart. Great. Everybody's gotta know my embarrassing secret. OK, I got them with the pukka shell necklaces last year. Kelly and I were going to a David Cassidy concert and we wanted to dress like Jan and Marsha Brady. I know!!! I got the Pukkas and grabbed the earrings as an afterthought and realized later that I'd picked up 2 pair tacky earrings, and in the excitement, one of them went undetected and unpaid for. I later discovered them that evening in with the bell bottoms (or maybe the shirt with the neru collar) I'd picked up for the event. No matter. I've been keeping them safe in my glove compartment all this time. Now they are back in my bag since i just discovered a Waw-mart in Freehold. Wawmart, for all your costume/jewelry needs. Pay first. Bring back later.

Ugh. I've got a bad taste in my mouth. Good night.

playing with food

only fifteen

i'm
only 15
i feel like a queen
i do my own makeup,
no fake, Maybelline
yesterday, clean
today i'm obscene
i posed in a sheet for a nice magazine
haven't you seen
lost in the dream
my image of innocence-
Now I could scream
i'm paid to be sexy
my backside so lean
but Grandma will tell you
my image is clean
and nothing I did there
was less than seen
im only fifteen!
like, what do you mean

the parents must screen
and tell me what's wrong and what's right
i'm a fright for their precious young teen?
and how have you bean?
dad has my back, show no crack
and now please
can we wrap up this scene?
I'm only 15.

mom jeans

A follow up to the last post.

After a nice drive down the scrubby back roads of Howell and into the Pinelands of Jackson and into Lakehurst, I turned my car into the long paved driveway which led to my friend's house in the woods. Had to park my car just off the asphalt,which was decorated with colored chalk, in what appeared to be paths which wound around and interconnected. Some sort of game, i presumed. I was met by a throng of children and the husband of V. who welcomed me in their beautiful home. It had been over a year since we last visited. Anyway, I love to visit this bubbly woman who I have known since the age of 15. I thought I was 10 or 12 but turns out that I am 15 years older than their little brother, S., whose birthday we were celebrating. As I mentioned in my last post, we had all met at the christening of the birthday boy. St Veronica's. 1977, since S. is 31 now.

I spent the next hour catching up with V., munching on this great taco salad ( i got the recipe), sipping champagne, (the family drink for generations),and trying to remember the kids names and who belonged to whom. V. has a sister, E., who wasn't able to be there, and between them they have 8 children. It was so good to talk to the relatives who I had not seen in years. V's mother is a dear friend of my mom, a very bubbly and spiritual woman, a hospice nurse and chaplain at one of the larger hospitals in the area. I love talking to her. She is in the process of buying a home on the beach which she intends to use as an aftercare retreat for the bereaved. This is all very exciting as B. is a woman with vision and will see these things come to fruition, as God is able to move 'mountains' to see these things through. So...



In walks the BD boy. He is a strapping young man. A hefty but very cute biker looking dude in black and jeans in with long hair and a doorag. Every time I see him which is about every 5 to 10 years, he is more of a man. Our last run in occured as I was driving down Hwy 37 and we happened to pull up along side each other at a light. Or was it at the Midas Muffler? Not sure, but he is a big guy now. He gave me a breath taking bear hug. Just as i had suspected, he's in a biker club. A 'family club' he says. He said he had seen me at a biker run, the Oktoberfest a year and a half ago with my ex. Anyway, V's husband turns out to be related to a friend of the ex. He's one of the guys in the Bog Iron Band. The Bog Iron Band is perhaps the best bluegrass band in these here parts. I would love to have them play here at Geefest if I could get my landlord to agree to it. This is the perfect spot for a '12 keg megaparty' though I know about these things. The owner is very particular about his grounds. And all those bikers. I don't see it happening. Anyway that was that.

S. liked his Rice crispy treats, the Avocado maraca which he slipped in his pocket, and 'Build it Yourself' mini chopper/chopper book which he carried around like a kid. Guess I had him pegged. Boys like toys. V. brought out the 1/2 sheet ice cream cake and i played a rousing Happy BD on the electric piano. I wrapped it up at 10. He walked me out to the car and after saying our goodbyes gave me another bear hug. No talk of the unthinkable D word. Thank you. I feel old enough. I wonder if the 60 year old guys on eharmony would feel the same way toward me. i just can't get past the age difference.
Happy B Day S.

not a word about the mom jeans. didn't wear em.

cradle robbing

i was just invited over to a friends brother's bd party...i love these people. grew up with them. remember when the boy who is now 30 something, was baptized. I was about 10 or 12. Anyway, about a year ago, his mother called me to see if i would be interested in perhaps dating her son...you know, i just felt that perhaps i may be too old for the dude. I'm more of an older sister type. anyway, Barb and I never really spoke after that. now I am getting ready to go down there for a burger and brew. I made him some rice crispy treats and I am gifting the man with an avocado maraca and a build it yourself chopper scaled down to fit in the palm of your hand, as I remember he is into motorcycles and grease. Happy B Day, man. Don't look at me that way. I am old enough to be your Auntie. i hope he's got a girlfriend. These young buds scare me. I guess this situation calls for mom jeans.

Laird Hamilton

2007 world surf-kayak championship

faux sea painter

An 'excerpt' from my sister's email:

"I'm sure you've watched ABC's EXTREME HOME MAKEOVER- and heard TY Pennington yell
" MOVE THAT BUS!"

Well, originally I signed on, after hearing a family I had gotten to know at our private YMCA facility, here in Colorado, was chosen to win a home. The daughter, K., has a rare skin condition. She doesn’t feel heat or cold or pain, and can't cool her own temp. With the mounting medical bills, the family was headed for homelessness, but were chosen out of hundreds of applicants. The project allows for locals to assist in various ways, and I was eager to help out any way possible, preferably to do wall murals, if requested. My daughter, Laura, who manages a Starbucks in Colorado Springs, assisted in setting up and overseeing the coffee area at the site.

ABC built a temperature controlled home for this dear sweet child- 62 degrees year round. Unfortunately for me, ABC already had hired a faux painter for the kids rooms. It must have been hard for the team to do a good job with such time constraints, having to complete the entire project in 1 week, but the house turned out really beautiful! Kayla's bedroom was a small part of it.

I get a call a 2 months later. Mrs W, asking for my time and talent-
"Why?", I'm thinking- It looked fine on television. Sadly, there were concerns about a possible allergy to the fish tank, which was the focal point in the room. After much consideration, the family decided it had to go and that the room would need a makeover.

The room was repainted in an ocean blue- now I had a fresh canvas-
Here's my attempt at -Extreme "Re-make over"- My new friend wanted to be under the sea with her favorite characters- so here goes":

miracle maker ( live)- Delirious

and literally within an hour....

I LOVE this song. They started with a melody and a title...

I’m waiting here for my life to change,
When the waters stir you can rearrange me.
Just one touch is all I need,
I’ve nothing much but the wounds I feel,
I’m looking for the hand of the miracle man.

Holy, you are holy,
Who was and is and is to come.
Holy, you are holy, Saviour, Healer,
I’m standing at the feet of the miracle maker.

I’m holding on, with your life in mine,
Living water’s come,
And you’ve rearranged me.

Holy you are holy,
Who was and is and is to come.
Holy, you are holy,
Saviour, healer,
I’m staring in the face of the miracle maker.

Holy, you are holy,
Who was and is and is to come.
Jesus, precious Jesus,
Thank you, Saviour,
I’m walking in the shoes of my miracle maker.
I’m standing with the faith of a miracle maker.

Majesty ( Here I Am)- Delirious

the way of the roses

Holy Ghost Wedding!

Hands and Feet- Audio Adrenaline

i'm ready for my song

one of my guys is sick. he's been ailing for a few weeks.poor kid. well he's 35 but actually more like 7. the dude's been coming here and sleeping. not quite himself. something going on there. so finally he winds up in the hospital, and still they have no idea what's wrong with him. now his father tells me that they can't wake him. in intensive care. i feel so sad about it and wanna go over there and put his favorite CD on his head ' Bon Jovi. It's my life.' He tends to hang around my office and parks by the door. I can sense his eyes looking in my window and when I look up, he says, " hey Geeeeena, I'm ready for my song. It's my life." For a while it was an everyday thing. i would put his song on 'the you tube', and he would sing along with it. made his day. "PLAY MY SONG NOW." I am praying that they can figure it out and he will get well and come back to us. To his family. Please pray for D. We miss him around here.

nobody puts Baby in a corner

i must have been half asleep by the time I finished up at the gym. Too long of a workout. Too long of a day. Anyway, i was in the bathroom over there, standing at the sink, mind wandering I suppose, when I lifted someone's keys. I guess they looked like mine. They did. All except for the BMW logo and hidden key. Actually the only thing that vaguely resembled my key chain was the little plastic card for the gym on it. Mine has about 5 or 6 keys. I was very tired. Have my second wind now, unfortunately.

Drove almost all the way home when I decided I needed to get gas and stayed on the highway which led into the wooded boonies. Found a lonely gas station at an intersection that was still open after 10, and asked the nice old Latino attendant man to fill it up. The man kept stopping the flow saying, "Are you SURE you want more?" I have never in my life had a dude at the pump asking me if I am sure. He did it several times, as if he thought I couldn't afford the gas. And every time I said, " Yeah...leave it, let it fill up.", he'd go
" Wooooo Weeeee!!! That's a lotta gaaaas, Ladeeee."
"Not really sir, same gas, more money. Please just let it fill. I'm serious. Fill it up! Come on..."
He truly thought it was going to explode if he actually topped it off.
"Should we let it go a little further or stop now?"
" Will you just leave it alone?!!! Let it stop on it's own, when it's full. Come on it's gonna be like $45. It's okay"
Geepers. What the heck. I just want a full tank. Am I asking too much? I was tired.
" I just don't know if it's gonna blow. Are you sure you can go that high?"
"What?!"

It was then that he noticed the Delorean.
The side door was up and it was like a scene right out of "Back to the Future."
Of course he was delighted to see that car. " Woooooo Weeeee! Will you look at that car!"
" Yeah that's really something, isn't it."
I was intrigued myself. I don't thing I ever actually got that close to one. Not when they were new. The new selfish man's car of the 80s. This one was made in 1981. Bout the same time as my Honda Accord which wound up all rusted in the fenders. Not the Delorean. I think they were going for 25 thousand at the time. I spoke to the owner of the car since I had to wait on my gas anyway. The driver was actually the father of the kid who owns it. The father is my age. This car was around before his son was born, probably when he was first looking for his first car and wouldn't have been able to afford a Delorean. Who'da thought his son would have one? Up close this car looked like a dishwasher to me. Beautiful stainless steel. Like everyone's kitchen appliances these days. That car was designed for the future and actually blends right in with the new age gas efficient cars out there. The liscence plate read '88andgone', just like the movie. So....

Finally the guy finished filling my gash durn tank.
"Woooweeeeeeethatjustaboutdoesitttt! How'd you let it go so low?"
" I just fill it up and refill it when it's empty."
" You shouldn't let it go so low. woooo weeeee! We topped it off. You just don't know if they are gonna 'BOOM"
I figured he must have had an incident involving an explosion at a gas tank. Combustibility issues.
"Thanks, you're very brave to fill it to the top. I appreciate it." I pulled out of there thinking i'd never go back. Gas is 3.35 and i thought i was getting a deal. 3.27 up the road. Anyway i drive into the ghost town I live near and pull behind the laundromat which is pitch black back there. Toss my garbage in the can and head on home. Pull into my driveway and get all my clothes together. I must get a gym bag. This morning I turned around and saw that I had dropped my underwear in the driveway and was so glad I looked. I'da hated to have those guys finding em there. Just my style. Sheesh. So I get out of the car and smell that perfume again. Expensive stuff. Nothing I have sitting around. Where is that smell coming from. Not me. I smell like the stinking gym and it was AWFUL tonight. The gym smelt bad. Like A. So I realize suddenly that I am holding 2 keychains and suddenly I see the BEEMER LOGO. "oh NO."

I have to drive all the way back to the gym. 5 miles. I try to call the gym because whoever left those keys in the bathroom is probably freaking out. I can't get a number from the operator. The gyms been there for years. That's ok. I pull up right beside the brand new gleaming white BMW SUV, and out walks the woman who unmistakably belongs to it. Olivia Newton John like. I get out and walk up to her. I feel like Fred Sanford in Olivia's presence. It's just not fair. She probably lives in one of those McMansions too. I have to stop myself from sinking to the depth of self pity.

" Excuse me, is this your vehicle?"
"YES...why?"
" I have your keys..."
" OMG!! Thank you!!Thank you!!! I've been looking for them all over and we just posted signs. Thank You!"

It hadn't yet occurred to her that I was the cause of all of this.
She treated me as if I had found her child who had wandered off.

"I'm sorry. I thought they were mine."
As you can see, I am driving a luxury Hyundai here, also white. Filthy too.
She thanks me again and I am feeling grateful that she is not screaming her little blond head off at me.

I leave her standing there, and quickly climb back into my heap. It's a good little car. I love it. I do. I do! Really? I feel like Charlie Brown. I'm just sick of the way my car gets so dirty all the time! Always filling up with trash. Stuff. Dirt. Laundry. Junk. Right now I am, and have been, driving around with a shelf unit I picked up off the side of the road last week when I was driving through Franklin Township. Couldn't resist. It was rounded corner thing. Black. Anyway, I have to treat it to a nice wash inside and out.

I have to remember that I am so happy with my lot in life. I am. It's good. I don't need all that stuff to make me happy. I drive out of there thanking God that it all worked out. That she was in a good mood. a glass half full girl. Thank you!

So on the way home. I was thinking about Jesus. Thinking how nice it would be to have a guy like Jesus, not the one from the Big Lebowski, the one from Nazareth. Someone real and relaxed, not making me feel stupid for taking someone's keys. I beat myself up enough as it is. I just want a little understanding; a timely "Nobody puts Baby in the corner."

Who Sits In The Red Chair? - Phil Ginsburg

I met this man and his lovely wife at a party at my sister's home. My first impression was that he bore an uncanny likeness to David Um...i can't remember...you know, that guy from 'Curb Your Enthusiasm'. Within a few minutes of talking to him I could see that he was also pretty funny, kind of quiet but observant, intelligent and insightful. I spent some time talking to his wife, who shared the interesting story of how they had met and fell in love. Phil was very encouraging after my sister embarrassed me by insisting I recite a poem I had written. It was one of my earlier ones about dating, you know, right after a bible study she decided it would be fun for me to 'share' it with the group... and the content was sort of....inappropriate. Awkward. They were waiting. So I cut out some of it but it was still kind of wrong for the moment. Anyway he was encouraging and informative with regard how to go about publishing my own poetry book. I have not done so, and figured that perhaps I would get to it, maybe after 30 or poems. I think I've written about 170 or so and still no book. Anyway, my friend Angela, found a cute red velvet chair, the type you'd see parked in front of a vanity. She's got it parked at the base of her front stairs, and she says that the boys who come to date her daughters will have to sit there waiting for the grand descent. Anyway the chair triggered a memory of Phil and his book entitled "Who Sits in the Red Chair?" Hoping to find out how I could get a copy to complete her entry, I Googled Phil's name. I thought I'd heard that name before. Phil Ginsburg, Ginsberg. Who IS that? Anyway, when I got to his site, I saw a pic of the Red Chair, but the name of the book was " Voices Beyond the Veil". I don't know where I got the first name, but there is definitely a red chair involved.



Bibliography

What does one say about oneself without sounding too modest or too self-promoting? I am an New Yorker. I live in Colorado. I'm happily married and have a daughter in her senior year in college. I consider both these events as evidence of the miraculous in my life. (It always sounds phony when people write their bios in the third person. I don't have a third person. I'm content with just being in the first person.)

Where was I? Oh yeah. I'm Jewish and I'm a believer in Jesus. I know. I know. I've heard all the arguments why you can only be one or the other. Well, I've met the Lord and He's Jewish and I don't think he's called me to become Korean, Serbian, or Scottish.

I graduated theater school in New York City a long time ago. I once sang on television and Barry Manilow accompanied me on the piano. I was a stand up comic at one point in life and did a bit on the old Merv Griffin show. I'll never forget Merv's comment after my monologue: "Was he on LSD?"

He had a good point. I was out of control that night. I was out of control the first 30 years of my life. When I met the lovely Savior I found shalom. Peace. Such peace.

Thank you, dear friends, for visiting this website. I hope my book will help provide you with the Shalom you are seeking.

Sincerely, Phi


Voices Beyond the Veil
The Story of God, Humanly Speaking

To be sure, "Voices Beyond the Veil, The Story of God, Humanly Speaking" features 80 dramatic monologues from the Bible exploring the inner lives of the people of the Book. Beginning with Adam and Eve in Genesis and ending with the Apostle John in Revelation, "Voices" is a book that gives utterance of things past, present and future.

It is a book for now that draws us to the eternal.

Comments about Voices Beyond the Veil

"Many times I have had people say to me that the message from his monologues was more powerful for them than the sermon itself. Phil's insight into the interior life of these biblical characters is worth
its weight in gold."
-Bill Tibert, pastor, Covenant Presbyterian Church,
Colorado Springs

"Reading Voices Beyond the Veil opened my mind and heart to understanding the people of the Bible in a more engaging and personal way. I highly recommend this theatrical devotional!"
Red Chair-John Cruz, vice president for Bibles.com, American Bible Society

Phil Ginsburg has found a way to capture and share the full range of emotions experienced by a multitude of Bible characters. His book makes devotional time something to look forward to again and again.
-Joe Lachnit, International Publishing Consultant

How to order VOICES BEYOND THE VIEL:
Please send a check for $12.95 and add $3.00 per book for postage ($15.95 total) to the following address (U.S. shipping only please):

Phil Ginsburg
4164 Austin Bluffs Pkwy. 245
Colorado Springs, CO 80918-2928
email: info@PhilGinsburg.com or pginsb@yahoo.com

Receive with each order a FREE CD containing six live performances of selections taken directly from the book.

Save money on book and postage prices when ordering two or more copies of "Voices Beyond the Veil." Please inquire by email for details.

Upon receiving your check I will send you as many signed copies of “Voices” as you need.

You may also order “Voices” from Outskirtspress.com/philginsburg or by going to any bookstore with the following information:

Voices Beyond the Veil, The Story of God, Humanly Speaking
By Phil Ginsburg
Outskirts Press Soft cover - 248 Pages
Publication date: 01/2007
$12.95

ISBN 1-59800-964-8

typical day at work

kareoke, coming soon! can't wait.

the worst of me

not a lot to think about
i seem so light and easy
but suddenly the clouds roll in
and feeling kind of queasy

i run and close the windows of my soul
but just can't win
the winds are blowing up now
and the thunder's rolling in

and suddenly it's raining down
you'll have to wait it through
you should have seen the signs before
just like you always do

it beats upon this old tin roof
we're stuck inside together
you've slept right though this scene before
and understand my weather

pretty soon the rains let up
and skies begin to clear
the sunset's red and orange haze
means better days are near

we all have nasty weather
inner conficts you can't see
and when those storms come, brother
you can weather the worst of me.

don't say

I don't have a clue what to write in this song
the chorus is fine but the lyrics, all wrong
read for yourself, and don't wait for the day
when I know how they go, I will say.

Don't say you do,
when you don't
you know it really isn't funny.
Don't say you will,
when you won't
hello, I'm talkin' to you, honey
Don't say you'll come,
when you know that you can't
and I won't say a word
when I rant
No, I shant.
not a whisper from me when I rant.

I came home to find you asleep on the couch
and tiptoed around you, my big hungry slouch
if I knew you were home, I'd a planned something nice
but this chicken's still frozen on ice.

Chorus

Last month I told you my car's rather beat
the muffler was hanging? it dropped in the street
the cops heard me coming and followed me home
on the back of my ticket, your poem

Chorus

Paint me a picture, I'll pay for your time
Inspire one stanza, I'll write the last line
if you'd bring me some hope, for I'm failing to cope
We could spice up our rhythm with rhyme.

Chorus

Carry Underwood- Bless The Broken Road

I set out on a narrow way many years ago
Hoping I would find true love along the broken road
But I got lost a time or two
Wiped my brow and kept pushing through
I couldn't see how every sign pointed straight to you
Every long lost dream lead me to where you are
Others who broke my heart they were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you

Every long lost dream lead me to where you are
Others who broke my heart they were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way into your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you

bring back the tattered dress and ninny dance!

" LEAVE ME ALONE!!!"

Doll screamed at me yesterday. Same words. She snapped out of it over lunch and we had a few laughs. Doll is like an old Pat Benetar, except she's only about 5'2, 100 lbs. ( side bar: I'm 5'2" and remember being 92 lbs. at age 28, and no one ever told me I was too thin. That is so weird.) Back to Doll. She insisted on the black strappy heels. Her husband talked her out of them. When she first started coming to the center she wore stilettos and would keep her top zippered half way down to her 'ninnies' as she call them. This should be her song.

Pasture Man

Love would hold him in His hands,
a man whose field of knowledge spans
across the cultures of the lands
whose heart and soul He understands.

And Love would choose this lowly one
of humble heart, a fallen son
and one whose felt the pain of loss
whose slept in fields of stone and moss.

And brought him to this place of rest
where he can ponder what is best
to build his home with rusty nail
or lose the things which can't avail?

To spend his time in search of that
which fills the hollow places, at
the moment of his greatest need
a root broke through that tiny seed.

A drop of water from the sky
had reached the ground and fed the rye
which grew into the Living bread
and fed the famine in his head.

And Love would fill his hungry soul
with simple Truth, a burning coal
and from this rock, pure streams will flow
the living water makes men whole.

We, like sheep, have gone astray
each one wanders his own way
it's freedom call and so, what if
our freedom calls from yonder cliff?

The grass is tall, it waves hello
while waves crash on the rocks below
the Pasture man, he knows the land
and saves his friends from sinking sand.

He leaves the rest to find the few
who've wandered out to catch a view
of life beyond the broken fence
a man feels loved and then repents.

Badfinger- Baby Blue

Badfinger-No Matter What

The moving tale behind the song 'Without You'

Without You-Badfinger ( Harry Nilsson made it his own)

the way I see it...

Kristy Lee Cook reminds me of June Carter and one day her very own Johnny Cash is going to come along and sweep her off her feet. Yep.

map quest

And how long did it take me to drive 22 miles this morning? 2 Hours! The map took me right to the edge of it and then I was on my own. Wound up in Trenton. I need to get a GPS.

1: Start out going EAST on SPROCKET toward SHIVERVIEW TER. 0.0 miMap
2: Turn RIGHT onto SHIVERVIEW TER. 0.2 miMap Avoid
3: Turn LEFT onto ONESHIP RD. 0.2 miMap Avoid
4: Turn RIGHT onto CREEPY RIVER RD/ CR-533. 1.6 miMap Avoid
5: Turn LEFT onto CR-632/ GRIGGSTOWN CSWY. 0.3 miMap Avoid
6: Turn LEFT onto PANAMA RD/ CR-632. 0.6 miMap Avoid
7: Turn RIGHT onto CHUNKER HILL RD/ CR-632. 2.4 miMap Avoid
8: CHUNKER HILL RD/ CR-632 becomes NEW RD. 2.7 miMap Avoid
9: Turn LEFT onto CR-522 E. 2.1 miMap Avoid
10: Turn RIGHT onto BLOWN OUT RD/ CR-679. 0.6 miMap Avoid
11: Turn LEFT onto CRUNCK RD. 2.9 miMap Avoid
12: CRUNK RD becomes CR-522. 1.6 miMap Avoid
13: Turn LEFT onto CR-522/ CR-615/ E RAILROAD AVE. 0.0 miMap Avoid
14: Turn RIGHT onto E RAILROAD AVE/ CR-522. Continue to follow CR-522. 3.3 miMap Avoid
15: Turn LEFT onto MOUNTS MILLS RD. 2.3 miMap Avoid
16: Turn RIGHT onto ENGLISHTOWN RD/ CR-527. 0.3 miMap Avoid
17: Turn LEFT onto UNION HILL RD. 0.5 miMap Avoid
18: Turn RIGHT onto PENSION RD. 0.4 miMap Avoid
19: End at 104 Pension Rd Manalapan, NJ 07726-8400 Map
Estimated Time: 42 minutes Estimated Distance: 22.06 miles

home on the radiator

i really enjoy being home these days, especially around dinner time before the sun sets. just starting to feel settled. started cooking again. something about making your own dinner. even if it's a scrambled egg. last night I threw in the remainder of that antipast, olives, roasted peppers, mushrooms, basil in olive oil with sea salt and pepper and an english muffin on the side. alittle cabernet, light a candle and kick back to the sweet sounds of....well whatever it was I was watching, i kept noticing the sunset through the window in the living room, the fish bowl i set up on the radiator cover( waiting for a Beta), catching the light and magnifying it all in the glass. I put that fishbowl there because it reminded me of scene out of the Cat in the Hat. Anyway...it's just nice. I wish I could have a child there. sigh...or a little dog. hmmm...or a fish or somebody.

but it's a nice apt. I love being home and wonder if I am in the early stages of 'Hermit'. Yesterday i went for a ride around the back roads and discovered a river which runs through it. Actually I discovered a parking area which leads to a trail which leads down to the river bank wherein I could possibly drop a kayak. I was thrilled until I realized I'd have to have a second person come with me to park at the other end, wherever that would be...Rats. I need a second party! maybe I should take up fly fishing.

what ever became of....

I tend to Google quite a bit. It's my way of coming up with new things to think about. New ideas. Still, every once in blue moon, my curiosity peaks and I have to google my past. Because my first ex has a very common name, I Googled his wife's name. This led to her employer, a private school. I Googled the school and clicked over to the PTO
(Parents Teachers Organization). I was stunned. There in the middle of the page, a publicity shot ( for the school), of Mark and his son, working on a wood shop project together. Amazing. Anyway, I was glad to see that he turned out alright. Married for many years, still wearing his ring, hasn't lost any fingers, still the same guy, looking thoughtful and content, caring and involved with his children, and involved with the PTO. jackass. oops. see? no wonder. bet she never calls him anything. see how long that lasts.

So that's that.

Next!

sweet mysteries

At the end of the day
it could go either way
much like at the end
of this song~
Well I write for a while
then I sink to a smile
when I think how you
draw me along.

Well we came with a story
a beautiful song, unheard verses
locked deep in our soul~
and the way to discover
what lies locked in this lover
find the key that will fit
the keyhole.

And sometimes we're inspired
other times we're just tired
and it's sad when we don't
realize~
it's because of ourselves
talent sits on the shelves
in the darkness for the rest
of our lives.

It was trouble and strife
anger cuts like a knife
and it tore at the door
of my mind (and my pride)~
it was then your sweet voice
through the keyhole rejoiced
and released the deadbolt
from inside.

So how I can tell you
just what's on my mind
I am corny and weird and unkind,
sometimes...
but I say what I feel
'cause i know what is real
and it sure beats what I
left behind.

Thought the answer was
finding
the right key~
the thing that would then
make you whole~
but the Master
unlocking
life's sweet mysteries~
is the love sown
in each other's
soul.

Doll

I took care of 'Doll' today. She has Alzhiemer's but is very social and brimming with Brooklyn diva personality. A fashion plate, Doll arrives dressed to the nines, complete with the hair, nails and accessories. Strange how it turned out that most of our clients are Italian transplants from Brooklyn or Staten Island. The " Ginny Gang Plank" as I have heard some of them say. Per her husbands request, I have been going over there on a Saturday or Sunday each week for a couple of hours to sit with her and help her with personal care. It gives him a few hours respite so he can get out alone. I really enjoy this couple. Very relaxed and peaceful at their house. Doll seemed different today. More coherent and less confused. It was nice to see that she wanted to do more for herself than usual. She asked me to leave the bathroom while she showered herself and then insisted she put her own make up on. The conversation we had regarding Chef Mike Colameco in the French kitchen actually made sense.

Me: " I don't know about you, but the chickens with the heads and claws still on them seem scary to me. I don't like buying food that still looks like the animal it grew on. Can't even wash a whole chicken without feeling sick about it."

"Tell me about it."

Me: " Look Doll they're cooking the head and neck like it's a drumstick right in the pan. Absolutely Gross."

" Well, you just don't look, Doll."

" And those frog legs. Look. He's eating them like drumsticks too. Oh man. I would puke."

" A guaranteed puke."

" and those snails. ew."

" This is just a disgusting thing we are watching, Doll ( she calls me 'Doll' too). Just don't look at it right now."

Maybe it was the prayer I said for her when we were sitting in the Library at work. Maybe it was Ensure I gave her this morning. I don't know but she was amazing.

We watched this other guy making Filo. I saw that if you take flour and add water, first, before the butter, you get a lighter bread like dough. If you add butter before the water, you get a cookie dough. He mixed the flour/sea salt and water and then threw it on the table and started kneading and rolled it out into a large square. He then put butter slices on 2/3 of it and folded it over in 3rds. He rolled that out and folded it up again...roll and fold. This increased the layers inside with the butter on each level. He said that in the oven the steam from the water want to be coming out but the butter won't let it...the hot steam is trapped inside and this forms the puffy layers in the pastry. Interesting!

I went shopping after that. Gas is up to 3.07/Gal which is still less than Lukoil. 3.09! I went to The Christmas Shoppe to look around and found some bargains on throw pillows some other stuff. I met a potential client in line in front of me. For some reason she opened up about her sister who is challenged and one thing led to another. She's gonna bring her sister over to the center. A really sweet lady. I think it was the throw pillows in her cart which got my attention. I happened to have one like it from Bed Bath and Beyond..." Lovely pattern on that throw pillow" "Oh yes! It's for my sister...." Amazing how throw pillows can spark a whole new relationship. Then over to Kirklands for a Lamperge (sp?) and some other stuff. The Lamperge is a decorative bottle which is filled with scented Pharmaceutical alcohol. The alcohol is wicked up to a stone which sits at the mouth of the bottle and is heated. The alcohol evaporates into the air, killing germs which cause odors, and leaving the room scented. The Lamperge was developed by a pharmacist in the early 19th century for use in the hospitals. Anyway I decided it would make a nice gift. Then on to the gas station for another 20 bucks worth of gas and then Shoprite for flowers and the ceremonial birthday balloon, and gift cards. Somehow I wound up as the collector of monies for the gift card. It's okay. I like doing the flowers and balloon, and it's all at Shoprite so I don't have to go nuts driving around wasting gas. So that's it.

I ate trail mix for dinner while I shopped. Ugh. THEN...topped it off with greasy antipast olive oil soaked Olives, roasted peppers, garlic, basil, mushrooms and mozzarella. I wanna hurl...excuse me.

Good night.

John Steinbeck (Steinbach...Spinecheck)

Sting-When We Dance

Rant of the Unhappy Housewife -Revisited

Golden words penned long ago
when you were young and zesty
occupied with lofty things
perhaps a lot less testy.

That which clouds our vision
tragic losses which destroyed
sweet perceptions,
dark deceptions
left you under-joyed.

Of girlfriends unattainable
rejection then would then smite
the hope of finding love,
which left you
just a bit uptight.

in the stretch to earn a living
well the boss is kind of rough
In trying to say something nice
you're on ice
cause she's hard-headed, driving, and tough.

The high cost of living, and then there's the tax
puts a strain on the old bank account
but that backbiting back-riding queen battle-axe
can jump from the ground to the mount.

and every day's the same old thing
like a hamster that's caught on the wheel
the same old thing is feeling old
and you're feeling cold as steel.

But still you ignore the passing of time
and balance hard work with clean fun
and believing that this is as good as it gets
you settle for less than The One.

Seeking distraction from everything dull
and attracted to that which you are
I skim self help books
while you eats what I cooks
and you're lost in the Harper's (Bazaar).

My cellulite was ill replete
and disappointments grew
and long before the smog moved in
it choked the thrill from you.

and out of this stress came the need to digress
so we sleep and we play and we drink
and we drain our desires and screw up our wires
and leave our sex life on the blink.

Simple amusements, the clutter of things
common to man and his beast
from the pursuits of knowledge and all that is brings
to the Thanksgiving holiday feast.

And now we're blown out, you lie and I shout
there's a palpable distance that's haunted
I long for the day when you'd hold me and say
that our life is just what you wanted.

But now mediocre, you opt to play poker
and run with a sweat pool of stink
and hoping to find something good on the street
in the morning you feel like a fink.

Left to your own devices
sleeping soundly, your heart's one desire
for passion it waits, while the office debates
and will do so until you expire.

Displacing my anger I'm less satisfied
and will never see straight, as you'll see
my own crooked finger was put through the wringer
and now it points straight back at me.

Golden words penned long ago
when I was young and zesty
occupied with lofty things
perhaps a lot less testy.

'Crooked finger' is a miserable fantasy of mine which helped me cope with singleness one day. I try to imagine the grass being all burnt out on the other side of the fence and find it elating. Not really. I have enjoyed some good things in my previous married life. Funny, I was googling crooked finger and found Eric Bachmann I think his name is. Anyway, it's just a PMS mood.

If you like dark, drunken, folky music, I highly recommend checking out Crooked Fingers. http://www.crookedfingers.com/flash/index.htm
THis song by Crooked Finger actually reminds me of Dylan's 'Spanish boots of Spanish Leather'.

Lost, or just losing it?

It was as if couldn't hear. What, with the music and all the noise, one could scarcely hear their own thoughts. But there was no mistaking him.

I dropped the weight and looked up. The man was massive. A handsome mass of rippling black muscle in black with white side stripes, a man I immediately recognized as one of Work Out World's personal trainers. A serious trainer. I had seen him before. Watched him working with women at the gym. Pushing them onward through the pain. Oh the pain. Consequently, I have been careful not to make eye contact with any WOW trainers.

Lost. How dare he?

But of course I was lost. They went and moved everything around since my last visit! Oh, I knew what he was getting at though and prepared myself for the pitch.

"What was that? I didn't catch you."

" I said you look like you're lost here."

I wiped the sweat from my upper lip. You know, I actually enjoy attention. Maybe even crave it. Just not from a guy who wants me to pay for it. So...where was I? Ah yes, lost.

" Actually, I am just not used to the new floor plan."

" That's not what I mean. You really look lost, like you don't know what you're doing with these machines."

What does he mean? It's not like you need to be a rocket scientist to use these things. Sheesh. Just read the...Oh. Seems I had sat down facing the wrong direction for this particular machine.

"oh...well...I really don't know every machine here. I mean just do what I can. As many as I can. 3 sets of 10 at about 30 lbs for these here arm curtains." A little humor to offset my discomfort for having been discovered.

" You need to do 15 reps. 4 sets."

" Uhm...that's twice as many. I don't think I can do that."

"You need to. More reps. Less weight. Burns fat...if you don't your'e gonna waste your time here. And you're gonna wind up with big muscular body...you don't want that do you?"

"no..."

" You need to keep the weight low, just enough to burn your muscles during the last 3 reps of each set."

"Oh..."

" You wanna burn fat, not build muscle, right?"

" Right."

" You need a trainer. A program. Otherwise you are just wasting your time."

" Oh..."

" Here's my card. 10 sessions for $800 to start. my name is Al. Al Spaulding."

Shaking his massive hand.

"Gertie... nice to meet you."

"You just let me know."

" Well sir. Al.... This is really more than I can afford right now. Maybe in May."

" Ok, you let me know. But you NEED a trainer. You wanna be ripped, right?"

"Well... I don't wanna be wasting my time here as you say and certainly don't want a massive butt as you say I am going to get from lifting too much."

Dear God, that's why I'm here in the first place! Get rid of this table for two. This junk in the trunk.

" Well you been doing it all wrong. You do it my way and you WILL see results. Think about it."

Over the next hour, Al would drop in on me with free professional weight lifting advice. He stood by and told me exactly how to use the machines to get "results". He pushed me to finish those agonizing last 3 reps and I hated him. But not really.

" If you want, I have a cheaper package. 7 for $455."

" You know, Al, I might be able to swing that."

I'm thinking that this time last year I put out just as much for the Botox which wore off after 6 months. This would be more useful and healthier. Maybe in May.

As I left the gym, I walked passed Al and patted him on his massive shoulder.

"Thanks,Al for the helpful tips. I appreciate it."

" You just remember what I told you and think about it."

Sting- The Shape of My Heart

Sting- Until

America

she said the man in the gabardine suit is a spy...I said be careful his bow tie is really a camera...

I love the lyrics to this song and the way the words flow freely like conversation. It just seems to be aching for more verses...or maybe not. I'll have to sleep on it.
( I loved the Meatloaf commercial with his son asking for a cellphone. "Let me sleep on it." "Daddy, Daddy"....ah that's another song.

Let us be lovers well marry our fortunes together
Ive got some real estate here in my bag
So we bought a pack of cigarettes and Mrs. Wagner pies
And we walked off to look for America
Kathy, I said as we boarded a greyhound in Pittsburgh
Michigan seems like a dream to me now
It took me four days to hitchhike from Saginaw
Ive gone to look for America

Laughing on the bus
Playing games with the faces
She said the man in the gabardine suit was a spy
I said be careful his bow tie is really a camera

Toss me a cigarette, I think theres one in my raincoat
we smoked the last one an hour ago
So I looked at the scenery, she read her magazine
And the moon rose over an open field

Kathy, I'm lost, I said, though I knew she was sleeping
I'm empty and aching and I don't know why
Counting the cars on the New Jersey turnpike
They've all gone to look for America
All gone to look for America
All gone to look for America

the boxer

When I worked for Mr. S, his driver, Paul, would pick us up ( in Mr. S' Mercedes) and take us out for a ride. Mr. S always liked getting out the house. We would take the scenic route to the movies. One time the driver told me how he went to the same high school as Paul Simon, I think in Queens...not sure. But he said that a group of kids would go to the Soda Fountain or some kind of greasy spoon joint after school. Art was sort of nerdy I guess from what the driver said, and he hung out with another crowd, but anyway... Not sure if Art Garfunkel went to the same school even, but the driver said that Paul Simon would be sitting there with his guitar and notebook, trying out new songs for his friends. He'd play one and then say, " Well what do you think of this one?" and his friends would give him feedback.

Wild Ocean Footage

A Nescafe Morning

this is a truly a beautiful morning. A sweet soft spring breeze gently blows my curtains and I no longer smell that disgusting skunk/tuna casserole that had awakened me before dawn. For the past few weeks, not every day, but generally in the morning, it's been the same thing. I am yanked into consciousness by that awful stench. At first I thought it was my neighbor downstairs but soon became convinced that I was breathing something from within. Perhaps a sinus infection or morning breath. I always wondered why a person couldn't smell their own nastiness since the olfactory nerve is sitting right over the upper respiratory tract and allows us to experience odors from the outside coming in. Anyway I have been a bit disturbed over the whole idea, thinking that something was wrong with me...what is this stink, and how miserable it is to be awakened by the stench of tuna casserole. It was while I was lying in bed contemplating all of this, that I decided on a little OJ with that Tuna. I rolled out of bed and stood and moved over to the window to get some fresh air, clear out the offending odors. Lo and behold...if that stink wasn't on the wind. Sure enough, the smell my mind had been translating into Tuna casserole, was actually the scent of coffee beans roasting. Nescafe has a factory in Freehold, about 4 miles from me, and when the wind is right, or in this situation, wrong, it carries on it the sweet aroma of coffee brewing...a nice smell. Sometimes a bit skunky, which was how my predawn subconscious mind had been experiencing it. I read once that there are certain odors which the mind can not truly differentiate between, some of which could go either way. Certain cheeses for example. I'm am not taking this post down that way but just the same I was thrilled to be able to relabel that odor as coffee beans roasting.

Ah, a beautiful morning, the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans wafting through my windows on the breeze. Mmmmmmm..........

A Presidential Mystery

Have a history teacher explain this----- if they can.


Abraham Lincoln was elected to Congress in 1846.


John F. Kennedy was elected to Congress in 1946.


Abraham Lincoln was elected President in 1860.
John F. Kennedy was elected President in 1960.

Both were particularly concerned with civil rights.
Both wives lost their children while living in the White House.

Both Presidents were shot on a Friday.
Both Presidents were shot in the head

Now it gets really weird.

Lincoln 's secretary was named Kennedy .
Kennedy 's Secretary was named Lincoln .

Both were assassinated by Southerners.
Both were succeeded by Southerners named Johnson .

Andrew Johnson , who succeeded Lincoln , was born in 1808.


Lyndon Johnson , who succeeded Kennedy , was born in 1908.


John Wilkes Booth , who assassinated Lincoln , was born in 1839.


Lee Harvey Oswald, who assassinated Kennedy , was born in 1939.


Both assassins were known by their three names.
Both names are composed of fifteen letters.

Now hang on to your seat.

Lincoln was shot at the theater named ' Ford .'
Kennedy was shot in a car called ' Lincoln ' made by 'Ford.'

Lincoln was shot in a theater and his assassin ran and hid in a warehouse.
Kennedy was shot from a warehouse and his assassin ran and hid in a theater.

Booth and Oswald were assassinated before their trials.

And here's the kicker...

A week before Lincoln was shot, he was in Monroe , Maryland
A week before Kennedy was shot, he was with Marilyn Monroe .