MOVIN' ON

Tony Bennett left his heart in San Francisco. I recently met a woman whose husband left his appendix in Pakistan.

In our lifetime, all of us have left something behind. That’s inevitable as we move forward. When I moved into a brand new senior residence (built across the street from my home) I knew I’d have to divest myself of stuff—lots and lots of stuff! My son, Josh came and picked out items that he and my dear daughter-in-law, Barbara wanted for their home, and we shipped 25 boxes to Virginia. After he left, I became a once-a-week donor for Big Brothers and Big Sisters. When I called them, the lady on the phone said, “I know you. You’re a regular!”

My house sold in less than 24 hours, and since the new owners loved my 25-year-old furniture, I gave most of it to them. My former neighbors have told me that nothing has changed in the house except for the new owners—but, I have!

Besides having purchased some new furniture, I have also cultivated new friendships. Since most of us moved in before the pandemic, we had three months to get acquainted. We were all newbies in the same boat.  No one wanted to hear someone complain about, “selling my beautiful house.” We all had sold beautiful houses. Of course, some were probably more beautiful than others, but it was an: “Out with the old. In with the new” atmosphere.

Some people had trouble parting with their antique furniture that was too big for their apartments, or they just couldn’t rid themselves of dust catching itty bitty shelf collections, but as a friend reminded me, “Not my circus. Not my monkeys.”

As one gets older, too many friends of long standing are no longer standing.  As painful as that can be, it is important to make room for new people in your heart, because time gets shorter and their stories are worth hearing—as long as memory is intact.  But, first you have to get used to listening to a litany of body part complaints, before hearing about the abundance of adventures experienced by some of these truly remarkable people—what they have lived and what they have survived—and, most of them have not lost their sense of humor about the whole kit and caboodle called life. The reason I am never bored is that I listen!

Here’s a touch of what I have learned so far: One man was an expert in computers before most of us had ever even heard of computers. Another neighbor had been a mid-wife. He pulled out information, and she pulled out babies.

Then there’s the man who shared some of his adventures as a glider pilot. I learned a lot about downdrafts and not getting in the way of eagles. Oh, yes, I can’t forget to tell you that one of my neighbors was a race car driver. When she pulls into a parking place, I always look for a pit crew.

And, then, there’s the captivating woman who plays a less than brilliant, “Happy Birthday” on her ukulele, but can give a concert performance by Chopin on her Baby Grand Piano. She also has fascinating stories about her eight years as an assistant to a famous television celebrity. The only problem is that she talks faster than I can stir batter in a mix master. It’s a New York thing.

My new neighbors and friends include artists, business owners, authors, editors, real estate brokers and dabblers, photographers, physicians, nurses, journalists, social workers, a political lobbyist, professors, attorneys, industrialists,  a professional fund raiser, engineers, teachers, school principals, and I could go on and on. So far, I have not met an acrobat, but sometimes someone tries a balancing act on the sidewalk.

My new residence offers many opportunities to learn new skills and try something you have never done before.  As an extremely amateur artist, I was recently asked by the art teacher to exhibit one of my abstract paintings on the art wall in the lobby. It is hanging next to a beautiful photograph taken by a professional photographer,  who has had much of his work published. When I said to my son (on Face Time) “That is really intimidating, he replied, “Mom, just switch name plates.”

Everyday is an adventure—some more than others.  Tomorrow we will have a fire drill, and when the alarm is sounded we are supposed to go to the nearest exit. I am expecting this to happen when I am in my Yoga class. My only concern is that the folks in Tai Chi won’t get there before the drill is over.

Esther Blumenfeld

PINOCCHIO HAS IT BY A NOSE

“The only people who get mad at you for speaking the truth are those living a lie.”

Attention! Unqualified post election ballot counters in Maricopa County, AZ have brought bamboo eating rats into the Coliseum to sniff if there is bamboo in 40,000 ballots that are suspect as having been brought to Arizona from China. High resolution cameras are supposed to help the rats find traces of all that bamboo.  In the meantime, the rat population has doubled but they have not chewed on any of the ballots.

My favorite game is Team Trivia because it is fact driven and tests memory as well as the ability to reason and ferret out the truth.  Denying the truth does not change the facts. Goebbels, the chief propagandist for Hitler in World War II said that if you repeat a lie long enough people will believe it. However, history has shown us that, “The truth is like the sun. You can shut it out for a time, but it ain’t going away.”

NOW! Here are some statements from me to you. Are they true or false?  Would I lie to you?

Bats turn right when they leave a cave.  FALSE! They always turn left. I don’t know why but they must be flying with the green arrow.

It takes a sloth two weeks to digest his food.  TRUE! That’s easy. Sloths are slow and lazy and don’t have incisors, so it probably takes them at least a week to chew all those leaves and twigs before smacking their lips. They would probably enjoy a cup of coffee.

Australia’s oldest living man (111 years old) claims his longevity is because he eats chicken brains.  TRUE! No twigs and leaves for him before he smacks those lips.

To vaccinate more Americans against Covid-19 officials are offering a give-away of donuts. TRUE! It give Americans the choice of dying from Covid or developing Diabetes.

Apes can’t laugh. FALSE! Apes laugh when they are tickled. That’s why they don’t laugh very much. However, I do know a brilliant scientist who has worked with Apes. Unfortunately, she lost a  bit of a finger, but I am not sure whether she was tickling him at the time.

If an airplane oxygen mask drops down you should sanitize the mask before slapping it on the face of the kid sitting next to you. FALSE! You should wipe the kid’s nose first.

A Neurologist from Mayo Clinic agrees that because of the Pandemic lots of people have forgotten to drive and have to regain their skills. TRUE! That good, Huh? Boy are we in trouble!

Congressman Matt Gaetz admitted that he was “naughty.” TRUE! He should probably be sent to his room without his pacifier for a permanent time out.

The problem with denying the truth is that the facts just don’t change. Man did walk on the moon, and Elvis is still dead! And, Yes, no matter how much I stomp on my scale, it tells me that I still haven’t lost all those pandemic pounds.  The truth may set me free but first it will really tick me off!

Esther Blumenfeld

NOW YOU SEE IT--NOW YOU DON'T!

My ears have become the suitcase of my face. I have to pack behind them the wires of my hearing aids, my glasses and a trusty mask. Of course, when I go hiking I  also have to add the strap of my hat just to provide an additional carry-on.

It took no time at all for my hearing aids to develop an intimate relationship with my glasses, and I suspect they are having an illicit affair with my mask.  Here’s the scoop: After an enjoyable evening with friends I came home to my apartment. I stepped into my well-lit closet, hung up my jacket and tried to remove my mask. The left ear cooperated, but there was an entanglement  between my glasses and the other ear’s hearing aid.  As I removed the mask, the tiny stinker silently dropped to the carpeted floor. I looked down. It had vanished!  How could that be?

That $2,500 (per-ear) midget had made it’s great escape, and was not to be found in that brightly lit closet.  I took out the few suitcases I had lined against the wall. It became obvious that  the hearing aid had not planned a get-away with my suitcases. I looked inside the one pair of shoes I keep on a rubber mat. It became obvious that the hearing aid did not plan a hike anytime soon.  I then removed all of the low hanging jackets, shook them out and laid them on the bed. The lower part of the closet was empty, and the hearing aid was no where to be found.

In desperation, I called down to the Concierge Desk and asked if beautiful eagle-eyed Emalyn could come up and take a look. Flashlight in hand she arrived and searched everywhere, but found nothing. The plot thickened! Finally, I put the suitcases back, and re-hung all of the low hanging jackets. Unlike low hanging fruit it had been slim pickings.

However, trusty Emalyn was not to be deterred. She said, “I’m going to look through all of these jackets.” “But,” I said, “I saw the hearing aid fall onto the floor.” Whereupon, she plucked that teeny-weeny run-away hearing aid out of the rolled up sleeve of a jacket — one that I never really liked. Sheepishly, I said, “It must have bounced.”

Two days later, I went to dinner and saw my new neighbors. They had just moved in the day before, so I went over to introduce myself.  We are allowed to go maskless in the dining room since it’s difficult to eat unless you want to chew on a mask. Consequently, I began to remove my mask. At that, my earring fell onto the floor— followed by my hearing aid. When I crawled out from under their table I said, “You are so lucky that I don’t have a glass eye.”

Esther Blumenfeld

WHAT'S GOING ON?

When Alfred E. Packer ate five companions in a Colorado blizzard in 1873, the furious judge shouted, “There were seven Democrats in Hinsdale County but you voracious man-eater, ate five of ‘em.  I sentence you to be hanged by the neck until you’re dead, dead, dead as a warning against reducing the Democratic population of this state.”

Although chances of a blizzard are slim in Arizona, some Republicans in Maricopa County (Phoenix included) are chomping at the bit and baring their teeth as they support the “Big Lie,” and look for unsubstantiated voter fraud in a secret 2.l million ballot audit.

It’s been almost six month since Joe Biden won this red state, but Doug Logan, a supporter of election fraud claims, and CEO of Cyber Ninjas, is supervising the secret audit.  The Republican sponsored recount is like wading through elephant doo doo after lots of flatbed trucks hauled voter equipment and 78 pallets containing the 2.1 million ballots to a shabby local coliseum for a by-hand audit.

Three previously held recounts of the entire state ballots showed no fraud or reason to doubt the voting results in Arizona, and the Republican Governor signed the paperwork to affirm that Joe Biden did win the Electoral College votes for Arizona. So what is all this hoopla really all about?

Do these bozos (who will not let journalists monitor what is going on) think they can overturn the election results?  Not likely unless they brazenly change the already often counted ballots themselves. However, the results of this unseemly audit could be an excuse for state lawmakers to change how we vote—starting by making it more difficult to  Vote-by-Mail.

The reason all of you in other states should be interested is because your lawmakers are watching very carefully what is happening in Arizona. Some have voracious appetites to also push through changes that will make voting more difficult.  Beware! Our democracy may be the main dish at that banquet.  Georgia has already prepared the appetizers.

Esther Blumenfeld

KEEP YOUR COOL

One of my Father’s favorite activities was to officiate at a wedding. The chapel was full, and he noticed a highly pregnant young woman seated in the front pew. As the organist began to play the wedding march, Dad said, “Please rise.” Everyone stood up including the highly pregnant young woman.  Suddenly, there was a “pop,”  and her skirt fell down around her ankles. However, since she was in the front row, and everyone was standing, few people noticed.  That was when I learned a lesson from my Father.  “When the unexpected happens always keep your cool.” All he said was, “Please be seated.”  He never added, “and pull up your skirt.”

Several times in my career, I encountered the unexpected when I wanted to yell, “Sit down and quit rocking the boat!” but I never did. For instance my co-author, Lynne Alpern and I were often booked as guest lecturers at various meetings and conventions.

At a convention in Tampa, Florida the venue was filled, so, when a busload of senior citizens (old folks) arrived, they were seated in chairs on either side of the stage. Obviously, our humorous presentation was a hit, because one of the old men laughed himself right out of his false teeth, and they scuttled across the floor.  I whispered to Lynne, “Don’t step on the teeth.”  She whispered back, “Don’t step on the WHAT?” But before I could clarify, the old man shuffled over to his teeth, popped them back into his mouth and took a bow. He stole the show!

At another venue in Texas, we started to speak after a  dinner, that had also included a cocktail hour. A humorous talk is always funnier after cocktails.  The elevated stage was very dark so we couldn’t see the audience, but they could see us. Suddenly, I looked down and I was standing in a puddle of water.  A stream of water was slowly coming out from behind the stage. Again, I had to warn Lynne, “Don’t touch the mic,” but this time it was a matter of life or death. I did not want either one of us to be electrocuted in Texas.  Oh, Yes, we did go on with our talk, and no one noticed that we were drowning.

In Atlanta, we were scheduled for a talk show at Ted Turner’s Cable News Station at 2 a.m. It was  dark outside, but lights were blazing in the News Station, and people were calling into the show from other time zones. One man called and said, “My wife has no sense of humor!”  I said, “Mister how long have you been married?”  He snarled, “45 years.”  I said, “Believe me!  Your wife has a sense of humor!”

Another late night TV host invited us to talk about our books. We were seated with other guests in the Green Room (which is never green). One guest was a female hypnotist accompanied by her husband, and another was a man who had invented a video for cats. He had brought two cages filled with cats, and assured us that his cats would sit quietly and watch the video when he was called into the studio.

I chatted with the hypnotist and she told me that she was going to hypnotize her husband on air. I said, “I hope you will be able to snap him out of it.” Offended, she replied, “Of course I can,” and then she proceeded to zone him out.  Then she was invited to go on air. She snapped her fingers and nothing happened. She snapped her way throughout the entire interview and he never emerged from his stupor.  To this day, she is probably still snapping.

The cat guy was on next.  He started his video, released the cats and they ran all over the studio with the studio crew in pursuit.  Our interview went very well since the host was inordinately happy to see us. He laughed a lot.  It might have been hysteria.

My husband, Warren was also an author of funny books, so sometimes our  publicity folks would schedule us together on radio or TV shows. One time we were booked for a radio interview in Phoenix.  No one can see you on radio, therefore radio stations are usually messy places—and no one dresses up. However, this radio station was different. The men were dressed in suits, and the women were also in formal outfits. Warren had worn a shirt, shorts and flip flops.  I was dressed a bit better but not by much. When we got into the booth, the engineer came out to fit us with headphones and said, “Are you going to speak about your ministry?”  Oops!  it was a Church Station. The host was an elderly lady with a braid of white hair on her head, wearing a dress with a Peter Pan Collar. She conducted a pretty good interview, but occasionally, Warren would emit a  surprised, “whoops.” When we left, I said, “What’s with the ‘whoops?”’  He said, “She had her hand on my knee.” Now that was a religious experience!

I won’t tell you about the time our publisher booked Lynne and me to do stand up at a comedy club, and the host introduced us by mooning the audience and dropping his pants.  That’s a hard act to follow…but that’s also another story.

Esther Blumenfeld