songbird's crazy world

 So it’s been a tumultuous week.  The funeral, sitting shiva, celebrating my mother’s life.  Seeing people from the various aspects of our lives — relatives, my friends, my sisters’ friends, my daughters’ friends, even friends of my parents.  Talking about old times. Years ago, my father took my mother to Italy for a vacation.  My father had been stationed in Italy during World War II and had come to love the country, and wanted to share the experience with my mother.   They were in Venice, at a cafe overlooking a canal, and they ordered a wine they had never heard of before. It was a sparking wine, similar to champagne:  Prosecco. When they returned home they tracked down that wine. Few people in the US had heard of it.  It soon became their favorite.  And shortly thereafter, America discovered Prosecco. So we toasted my mother’s life with Prosecco.

 So we were driving home from the East End, and suddenly found ourselves driving through a rainstorm.  And I looked through the windshield and saw amazing cloud formations.    #skywatchfriday

 So last week, when we went out to the North Fork, we stopped at a farm stand.  Lots of local produce was available.  So I bought lots of local produce.  Too much local produce.  When I got it all home, I had to wonder “how am I going to eat all of this before it goes bad?” The answer? Ratatouille.  I mean, I had beautiful eggplant, zucchini and summer squash, what else could I make?  Though I wound up using canned tomatoes, the beefsteaks I bought at the farm stand weren’t completely ripe.  And I have to say I was not impressed with the purple bell peppers; red or yellow or orange are much more flavorful. I had not made ratatouille in years…   I served the stew with couscous.  Made for a very interesting and delicious meal.    So good.

 I sold my tickets at a profit.  And then I cried.  I genuinely cried.  Over concert tickets.  Seriously. Remember my  Temper Tantrum ?  The tale of the Billy Joel tickets I bought in January 2020? Joel has a residency at Madison Square Garden, he does one concert per month.  I wanted to see the February 2020 show, but wasn’t able to get tickets.  So I bought tickets for the May 2020 show.  Thanks to COVID the concert was pushed back over and over again.   The May 2020 concert will take place tonight. I will not be there. Drew took a friend to the Rod Stewart concert (tickets bought in 2020) last night. I just couldn’t go to a concert last night.  They had a great time, bought me a t shirt … The Billy Joel tickets were listed on StubHub Sunday night. I sold them for a small profit Monday night. Tonight I will be sitting shiva for my mother.  

We stood in the parking lot of the funeral home, four sisters.  Four daughters.  The last time we’d been in this lot was when we  buried our father . And here we were again, arranging another funeral. My mother passed away in the early morning hours Sunday.  She was 89 and in poor health, so it’s not exactly a surprise, but …  well, we almost lost her when she  broke her hip  last year, then she bounced back.  So why shouldn’t she bounce back from what seemed like a relatively minor illness, when the doctor sent her home with a prescription for antibiotics?  But at 89, nothing is truly a minor illness, is it?   She wound up in the emergency room Saturday night.   The funeral will be Wednesday afternoon,  graveside service, beside my father. Miss you, mom and dad.

 And today’s theme?  It’s National Radio Day, so we’re asked to post songs we remember from the radio. Growing up on Long Island in the late 1960’s and early 1970’s, my radio station was WABC , 770 on the AM dial, the biggest radio station in NYC.  A weekday lineup that included Harry Harrison (the Morning Mayor), Ron Lundy, Dan Ingram and Bruce Morrow (Cousin Brucie) at night. You may remember Morrow as the DJ in Dirty Dancing , or from the oldies show he used to do on Sirius XM.  These days he has come full circle, he can be heard every Saturday night on WABC, which is primarily a talk radio station.  You can find the show on the station’s website.   You can find complete shows from WABC’s heyday all over YouTube, but I’ll just give you a few samples. Harry Harrison     Ron Lundy (“Hello, Love!)   Dan Ingram    And, of course, Cousin Brucie    WABC dominated the airwaves…until it didn’t. The end of an era came in 1982,  the day the AM music died . So it’s 1973, I’m 13 years old, and

 So the other day, when I wrote about vanilla pudding, I mentioned that I saw the best and worst doctors.   Today I’ll tell that tale. At the time my primary care physician was Dr. H.  Dr. H had treated me for mono during my first year of law school, and more recently he’d gotten me through two bouts with bronchitis.   When I fell sick, I thought I had bronchitis again.  I called Dr. H’s office.  His receptionist said, “Dr. H is about to leave for the day, but Dr. D is here. Do you want to see Dr. D?” Dr. H was about to retire and planned to sell the practice to Dr. D.  I agreed to see Dr. D. Dr. D examined me, told me “I think you have pneumonia,” and told me to go down the street to the hospital for a chest x-ray. At the emergency room I was examined again, x-rays were taken, I was hooked up to an IV and a nebulizar.  I started to feel a bit better. Dr. D walked into my room, said “I’m having you admitted,” and walked out again before I had a chance to ask a single question.  I had t

 So remember we went to the  North Fork wine country ? We had such a good time that we simply had to go back.  The weather cooperated, we had a cool, overcast but dry day to enjoy the outdoors. This time, we started our day at  Duck Walk Vineyards .  This is a casual spot, you get wine at the bar and bring it out to the garden to enjoy.  They also have a small selection of cheeses and some crackers.  I was so impressed with the white dessert port that I simply had to buy a bottle. Next up,  Croteaux Vineyards .  A lovely tasting garden with waiter service. All of the wines here are rose, some sparkling, some not.  We ordered a selection of wines and some spiced nuts, cheese and a baguette. Lunch at  Modern Snack Bar  is becoming a habit.  This time I had a hamburger. Drew mentioned (several times) that he was interested in buying duck eggs. So we headed over to  Browder’s Birds , a working poultry farm a bit off the beaten track.  They have a small farm stand, but alas, no duck eggs.  

Sea-Fever BY  JOHN MASEFIELD I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky, And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by; And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking, And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.   I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied; And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying, And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.   I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life, To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife; And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover, And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over. Some people around here forget that they live on an island.  Some revel in it.   I enjoy a quiet walk by the water, alone with the salty air, the cry of gulls, and my own thoughts.   It’s my serene place.

I was eating vanilla pudding the other night, and the taste reminded me of something that happened about 20 years ago. I had pneumonia, I was so sick that I wound up in the hospital for a few days.  I saw a really horrible doctor and a brilliant doctor, but that’s a story for another day. I was about 40 years old at the time, and my roommate was about twice my age.  She had broken her hip and needed surgery, but there was a problem:  she was on Coumadin, a powerful blood thinner.  She couldn’t have surgery until her Coumadin levels dropped, because otherwise the doctors would not be able to control the bleeding during surgery. So they prepped her for surgery, meaning she wasn’t given breakfast or lunch, but her Coumadin levels were too high, so the procedure was canceled.  Food service hadn’t ordered a dinner tray for her, but fortunately the nurse was able to provide a sandwich. They prepped her again the next day, but her Coumadin was still too high…she was eating her sandwich when s

 They made a wallet just for me!

So my friend S lost his 93-year-old mother last week. I have reached that age where most of my friends are orphans, having lost one or both of their parents.  By now we all know the drill.  If you can’t make it to the funeral…if it’s a Catholic friend, you go to the wake and buy a Mass card.  If it’s a Jewish friend, you pay a shiva call. Traditionally Jews sit shiva for 7 days after the funeral.  S and his brother aren’t very religious, so they decided to shorten the period of mourning; the funeral was Thursday, and the brothers sat shiva Friday and Sunday — mourners do not sit shiva on Saturday, as that is the Sabbath. I’ve known S for over 30 years, he was a groomsman at our wedding,  so of course Drew and I and a few other friends drove out to S’s brother’s house Sunday afternoon. And of course we brought cake.   You can’t go empty-handed to a shiva house. When Jews are happy, we eat.  When Jews are in mourning, we eat.  I guess you can say food is love.

 And it’s a “your choice” week. Guess where we were last Tuesday! Yep, Jones Beach Theater.  Time for the annual Jimmy Buffett concert.   It makes news here in New York.  Here’s a story from a few years ago. The first time we saw Jimmy in concert was in November 2009  at MSG .  We had such a good time that we’ve made it our business to see his Jones Beach show almost every summer. The view from our seats this year:    Rear orchestra, not bad at all. Last year it rained an we got drenched.  This year the weather was so much better. Of course we had cheeseburgers before the show.   And Drew bought me a t shirt,  you’re going to laugh when I show you … This is the shirt he bought for me last week.  Now let me show you the shirt he bought for me last year.    If you think the shirts look the same, you’re wrong.  The first shirt says the tour name is “Life on the Flip Side”, with the date 2022.  The second is from the “Life on the Flip Side” tour from 2021. Other than that … same shirt.  

 Another version of Mr. Porter’s commentary on the weather 

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 When you ask him to bring home a jar of argan oil hair butter … and he brings home a jar of argan oil hair butter…he’s a keeper. The heat and humidity have not been kind to my hair…

 And we’re posting songs about the summer heat. We start with some Buster Poindexter    The Lovin’ Spoonful    Linda Ronstadt    Let’s add some jazz    Ann Miller has it right     I think Mr. Porter deserves an encore   

 And it was time for the annual pilgrimage  our annual visit to Flushing. The weather forecast     Feeling hot, hot, hot. Our location.    I am wearing the Mets t shirt I bought in Cooperstown, the one that lists all the Mets players elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame.  I have my Mike Piazza jersey in my clear backpack (always read the venue rules about bags) but I don’t think I’ll put the jersey on. I have my Mets cap, the one I got in 2011, the one that honors the 25th anniversary of the 1986 season. My money is secure in my Mets pocketbook.  And I even have a blue and orange Mets bracelet. Drew wore his Mets t shirt, the one with Gary Carter’s #8 on the back. The view from the parking lot.    Yes, the subway tracks are right next to the ballpark.   We had tickets for the Saturday night game versus the Braves.  Who knew that there’d be a day/night, two admission double header?  That happens when a game from earlier in the season gets postponed. And who knew how important this game