I started writing a post last night about home decorating and improvement from my “empty nester” point of view. But when I woke up this morning, there were reminders of this horrific event that is now 15 years old.
Back in the late 1970’s I worked in the WTC. While I have good memories of working there, I never felt fully “safe” there–the elevators shook and swayed and the building seemed to be a Tower of Babel of sorts.
Probably the most intriguing memory was the morning when Philippe Petit took a highwire stroll across the towers. We all agreed he was a friggin’ nut! But we all wanted him to make it across safely.
Nobody could have imagined the horror that would take place in the future. The mass murder affected many of us. I still get emotional when I see the view of Manhattan from across the river. She never looks as “long” anymore.
To date, I’ve not gone to the memorial. It’s hard because I can visualize the faces with a good number of the names. I don’t want to have a visual of their last moments. It’s too much.
Today, 15 years later, I still get weepy over this. We simply cannot forget. I’m not going to politicize this. There is no need. I just want to repost what I wrote last year without a change.
Thanks for understanding. My humor will return tomorrow!
Anniversaries are reminders of special days. They may not be great reminders and they may be fantastic reminders.
Today is an anniversary of sorts. It has been 14 years since the catastrophic event of the Twin Towers in New York City.
My then-husband was out of the United States on a business trip.
My oldest son, Jake, had entered into his Freshman year at University of Texas in Austin.
Roman was a Sophomore in high school and Oona was in seventh grade in middle school.
I was home, I was getting dressed and just about to sit at the computer.
Ruby, my Yellow Lab, and Dorothy, my Bassett Hound was at my feet.
The TV was on.
I was not watching the TV, but I heard that a plane crashed into one of the two towers.
My first thought was “Holy shit. I used to work in that building”.
I could not for the life of me, figure out how that could have happened.
Then I thought about how nervous I was working in the WTC to begin with. The elevators drifted from side to side because they worked at such an incredible speed.
The building itself seemed to sway in the winter’s wind.
Then—it happened again and we all knew that something was not right.
The Pentagon exploded.
The plane went down in Pennsylvania.
America, as we know it, changed from an innocent and idealistic child of a country into a geographical and historic grown up. We were violated and we were wounded by extremist hatred.
Videos and images of bodies jumping from the towers, videos of the crashes, videos of a destroyed downtown were constantly aired to keep us informed.
Those images were horrific.
Worse than that, were the videos of the extremists who were living in these United States of America, celebrating these horrific events. Celebrating because they are filled with hatred. Celebrating because they are bigoted against Western society, yet they seemed to enjoy living in this society.
I remember losing people I grew up with. Losing people who lived in my neighborhood in NYC.
I remember one of my former playground moms having a son who was a waiter at “Windows On The World”. A while later his arm was found. He was identified by his tattoo.
His tattooed arm was closure.
Another young neighborhood kid was a fireman who went into the building and never made it out.
One of my cousins, a battalion chief for the NYFD, took the morning off so that his wife could go to the doctor. His entire battalion was killed. My cousin, Patrick, died seven months later.
That day, it seemed that the world was on our side.
That day, it seemed like our entire being as Americans were bound together.
We aren’t though.
We still have hatred and bigotry in our own back yard. We have hatred toward the LBGT community.
Hatred and bigotry still live within the confines of our borders in the form of politicians and “Christian” extremists.
People get pissed off because security measures at airports are too strict and those measures cut into their selfish time.
People get pissed off because, in trying to make our beautiful country a safer place for her citizens, they don’t want stricter gun laws.
People get pissed off because they don’t believe that others should be able to love who they want to love.
When will we learn?
I haven’t forgotten. But I certainly am not yet ready to forgive the evil that still dwells among us.
THIS is the image I chose to remember the anniversary of 9/11 with. The cross is hope. It is of a cross that was found at the site and taken to rest at Good Shepherd Church–my old parish in Inwood. Many parishioners were murdered that day…..
There are no words………….
Hope that one day, we will all be able to accept others as they are and the world will be a better place.
Listen. Hope is great…and I always attach a song. Today, I’m still doing that, but it’s a happy and hopeful one. “High Hopes”—because that is what we all need! XOXOXOXO!
We also need to go back to innocence–just like the kids in the video!
You know..I can be quite the social animal and I love being that way. I enjoy trying to make people happy—and that is because I want to make people happy. It’s just really important to me to try to make things a bit more pleasant. Plus—it’s really, really, important to have a positive outlook. I mean, look at the world around us. There’s so much hate and violence and really unkind people are becoming more famous by the minute!
I want to make the world a better place!
Like “Liberty Enlightening The World”, I want to welcome everyone and make them happy too! But–on a smaller scale. If I keep eating I’ll be wider than Lady Liberty herself!
But there are those times when I just want to take my physical being, turn myself inside out, and zip myself into my soul—I need to visit my invisible spirit so that nobody can see me.
It isn’t that I want to hide. I really don’t want to do that. Sometimes, I just want to be alone.
I’m older now, but ever since I was young, I found that the sandy beach offered such a peaceful and glorious sense of solitude any time of year. An empty beach with the view of protective dunes is a great place to reflect!
Plus, if I’m alone with me, I can listen to my thoughts. I can be the center of the little universe that belongs to me. I can shut everyone and everything out.
Sometimes Bonaparte, my kids and other loved ones just cannot figure out why I close myself off in my own little universe. Shhhhhhh–come closer and I’ll whisper in your ear..”I can’t figure it out either!!!”
It doesn’t mean I don’t love my family or those close to me. Nor does it mean I don’t value my friends.
It also doesn’t mean I need to be alone because I have to go to the bathroom for a while with a newspaper or magazine! (Ohhhh…last nights’ dinner!)
It just means I have this need to work some stuff out on my own.
Solitude can be welcoming and greet me with a gentle hug.
Solitude can warm you even under the coldest of conditions!
I can cry without anyone seeing me.
I can hurt without bothering.
I’m not bringing anyone into my personal drama.
Sometimes my spirit is hurt and needs to heal.
It isn’t a Pity Party that I’m celebrating either.
It’s just that I don’t even know the full reason as to just why I need to be alone.
I’m not lonely either. I’m surrounded by love and wonderful people.
One of the reasons I loved living in a large city was that I could blend in my aloneness.
As crowded as it can seem, being in a large city is actually wonderful for being alone. Millions of people are alone together. Blend.
I could be like vapor and evaporate into the atmosphere of the loners!
It’s true. I could be like cloudy vapor and evaporate–or at best feel like a lone hawk drifting in the skies!
So to my loved ones and family and friends I say, “Please don’t become impatient or angry with me because I’ve closed up for a while.” “Please understand that it’s harder to bring my words and thoughts into the spoken word than to write them!”
Then—after I’ve entered into emotional closet of shutting myself off, I’ll come out when I hear my father’s voice shouting down at me from that big poker game in the heavens…
“Hey”. ” Katie!” ” Whadarya??” ” Some kinda Pineapple for chrissakes?” “Jesus H. Christ get off yer ass and look out the winda” “It’s a beauty-full day”. “Get dressed and enjoy it!” “Ya crazy gallute!”
It’s true. One of my dad’s more creative terms of endearment was to call me..and my siblings “pineapple” when we just weren’t “on”! For some strange reason it worked. Try calling someone a pineapple and their faces will light up. They will smile then laugh!
And I can feel his breath..and that slight tap on my shoulder and I know that I will never fully be alone!
So today, I will end this with a fun song by a very funny Frenchman, Jacques Dutronc. The song: Et Moi, Et Moi, Et Moi…because it’s all about ME!!! XOXOXOXOXO!!!
Oh…and, well–Thank you for letting me be a bit deep today!
Home is a place of extreme comfort and home is the place that you can return to when you are having a bad, bad day.
Alexander was smart! He knew home was the best place to return to after a bad day!
Home is a place of memories. Some memories are not good ones—but, the good memories usually outshine the not-so-good ones.
Home is the place you long to be when you are not feeling well!
Poor Oona! She had such a bad case of the flu–but turning the family room into the sick room makes it just a bit better!
Home is the place where you can be happy.
Ain’t nuthin’ like seeing your kids happy–it gives you a sense of home!
Happy kids equal happy mom!
I lost this house when I got divorced. Before losing it, this house was home.
This was my home before I got divorced. I couldn’t even pass by it for a long, long, long time without getting all weepy!
It was filled with kids, and celebrations and comfort and love. My children spent most of their childhood here. They established great friendships. This was the place they came home to after a long day at school, and after the victories and defeats of their various sports games. It was the toasty place they came back to after a day of fun in the snow! It was where they ate meals and watched TV and slept and got in trouble and were hugged and loved.
Snow play in the back yard!!! After that, hot cocoa and some warm soup!
I even held parties for the neighborhood dogs! Dorothy and Ruby LOVED being the hostesses!
After losing it, my home became just a house to me, but a home to someone else!
This is the first house I lived in. Ozone Park, NY. When I was young, the house was covered in vintage shingles…and once you entered through the front door—the house became a home.
This was the house I lived in until I was six years old. It was, a great home!
My very first Christmas was spent here! Santa was good to me that year!
This is me in front of the home that we lived in when we were in Ozone Park. My mom and sister Sissy are on the stoop. That’s me–looking mighty pissed off. It was most likely because I was no longer the center of attention. Even as a child it was all about me!!!
Oh look! I’m in a much better mood here. Most likely because I’m the best dressed girl in the crowd! My mother had the fashion sense to dress me in a beautiful coat and beret! I love the Mary Jane shoes too! The front stoop was a very social place!
My grandparents and aunt lived on the top floor and we lived on the bottom.
Shiny, waxed hardwood floors with inlay strips sparkled throughout. My sister and I shared a bedroom. We had twin beds covered with chenille spreads and the walls were covered in pink wall paper with cute illustrations of little boys and girls.
I loved my ballerina bedspread!
We didn’t have a basement. We had a cellar. And in this cellar was a coal heater and a coal room. In this cellar, my grandmother had an old wringer washing machine.
The landing on the top of the steps leading up to the back door housed a milk box. And the Dellwood milk man would leave fresh, cold milk in that box.
In really cold weather, the cream would rise to the top of the milk bottles. Kind of like me. I’m the cream that always rises to the top!
I am that old!
It was fun to go upstairs and have a cuppa tea with my grandparents each day.
Nothin’ said home like a cup of tea that my grandmother brewed–and the matching slice of Drake’s pound cake!
This is the place that I came home to after having my eyes operated on, and where I was in quarantine when I had Scarlet Fever. It sucked too, because my parents had to get rid of all my toys due to “germs”! Well, it was not all that sucky because I got new toys!
When I started school, my grandfather would pick me up from the bus stop and walk me across the street to Novotny’s bar. He would have a boiler maker and I would have a “shot” of cola and a bag of Wise potato chips. People called my grandfather “Gov’ner”. I honestly thought he was the Governor of New York City.
New York will always be home for me. I mean, the entire expanse of New York City and Long Island will always be home for me. That’s where I’m from!
THIS is home and no matter where I end up, New York will ALWAYS be my home! I’m in a New York State of mind!
When we moved to Long Island, we moved into this house in Bay Shore. It was home. We did our homework here. We played for hours in the finished basement. We celebrated holidays here. We played in the backyard and the woods next door. And in the woods we would pretend that we were on an imaginary island or in a forest. We never had to worry about safety. Then one day, the woods were cleared to build another house…..a part of our home left us.
This was our first home in Long Island. Ohh…if my mom were alive, she would be very upset to see a pile of stuff in the window! Windows are meant to look out of and see the beautiful view–not to be obstructed!
When I became an adult, I moved back into New York City. I’m far more comfy in the cocoon of a city apartment than in the suburbs.
I’ve lived in apartments in Manhattan…and they were homes within my home of the city I still love!
214 Riverside Drive. My first apartment in NYC. This building was GREAT! It was like a dorm! A place of endless weekend parties!
It was always comforting to return to my apartment after a challenging day on Wall Street, where I worked. Sometimes the ride on the Subway could be filled with delays and other surprises.
But when I returned to my apartment, I could shut the rest of the world out and enjoy the peaceful calm of my little private world.
After the boys were born, downtown Manhattan was just starting to get pricey. So—we moved to the Inwood section of NYC, just above Washington Heights.
This apartment waa s GREAT home!!!! Many, many great memories with the kids when they were younger!
Look to the left. See the windows underneath the windows with the a/c units? That’s my home! These steps, otherwise known as “The City Steps” led from Park Terrace East down to Broadway. Now I know why I was thirty pounds thinner when I lived here! I climbed these steps at least three times a day! Who needs a gym?
Real Estate people now refer to this neighborhood as “Hudson Heights”. Really—what a crock of shit! I guess to pretentious people “Hudson Heights” sounds better than Inwood. I’ll keep calling in Inwood because that is where my home was!
Uh oh! Was Roman predicting the future when he was playing in this box as a house? Was he trying to tell me that I would eventually lose a home? Ouch!
When I’m in Paris, Bonaparte’s Aunt Daniele’s apartment is my home. And when we’ve been out and about all day, we’ll say “Let’s go back home”—and we mean to the apartment. It’s warm. It’s cozy. It is my Paris home away from home.
My Parisian home away from home! Thanks to Bonaparte’s aunt, Daniele, she’s always made me feel this IS my second home!
When we are in Theoule-sur-Mer, this is the terrace that is part of our vacation home. We’ve rented the same place for many years. For two weeks out of the year, this is “home”!
This is our two-week-a-year home. And it becomes more comfortable and familiar with each new year! It’s definitely got a home vibe!
These days I live in the Philadelphia suburbs. This area will never, ever be home to me. I don’t have that same warm and fuzzy feeling living here. I don’t have that “hometown” feeling….but…
When I open the door to the house that Bonaparte and I own in these suburbs, the house becomes home.
This is the entryway to the house we’ve made a home! Oops! time for me to get a new doormat. That one is FILTHY! Remind me to have Bonaparte take that disgusting pink towel off that hook. He insists on wiping Chippy’s paws with it. Can’t he just move it into one of those baskets??????
This is a home that Bonaparte and I have worked hard to build. It is our home.
A comfy family room adds to the coziness of home!
It’s the place of new Christmas traditions!
I got a lot of banister to decorate these days! Oh…I’m getting dizzy!
Part of my new tradition is decorating the home with pillows….
…lots of pillows. That one pillow may say “eat, drink and be merry”, but if you spill that drink on my white slip cover, merry may be leaving!
When the kids come to visit—it becomes their home too.
You know why?
Because home is where the heart is.
Doesn’t matter where you live. If your heart isn’t with you–it’s just not home!
You can live in a box, or a mansion or a high-rise or a teepee or a tent or a boat—and if your heart is there—it’s your home!
This is NOT my home. It WAS the home of Madame de Maintenon. She was married to Louis XIV. She turned THIS little chateau into quite the home, I might add!
Home is the best place! Here’s Dusty Springfield with Burt Bacharach to remind you that “A House Is Not a Home”! XOXOXOXOXOXOOOO!
It’s humid and hot as all get out. But, I’ve got the A/C down to about 50 degrees and I’m diggin’ a great hair day!
Crème de Cassis and Maille Mustard! Not together silly!!!!
Yummy Yummy. Crème de Cassis makes Champagne taste better! Maille mustard makes ANYTHING taste better. But–I don’t think I’ll be mixing them together any time soon! So there!
Bright Yellow Lemons in a bright white bowl!
…according to French Cinema, “Blue is the Warmest Color”. According to ME, Yellow against white is the happiest color!
Being barefoot on a hardwood floor….
I like the way the cold hardwood hits my bare feet. Now I know why dogs like hardwood so much. Woof!
Having the ocean hit my bare feet…
Ohhhhh..when that cold water hits my feet and then my feet sink ever-so-slightly into the wet sand. I just………LIKE it so much!
The way my loveseat looks in the sunroom…
I just like the way the little loveseat looks at different times of the day. It always looks inviting! Come on over to my house and sit and talk with me. OK?
The little bobble head of my son that MLB made for him…and I like..
Thank you MLB for making this image of greatness for me. I not only like but….
The way Jake’s head looks in the cabinet. I talk to him all the time.
I like the way this fits into my delusions. I get to talk to Jake every day–and he likes it because he doesn’t have to answer back. “Hi Jake!” “OMG, isn’t it hot out today?” “It’s September–are you coming home for Christmas?” “Um…can you come home like–three days before Christmas?” “Jake, what do you want to eat for Christmas Dinner?” “Can you answer me please?”
Roosters….
Unfortunately, I have no willpower and eat the cookies from my Rooster cookie jar on the same day I put them in. I wish this Rooster would peck at me so I would stop!
Here’s my placemat Rooster! He takes all kinds of abuse–like hot plates and spills…
And then there’s my little Rooster pitcher that I use as a vase…Oh SHIT! Wait a minute! I had dried Hydrangea in here. WT…..? BONAPARTE!! Oh man. Bonaparte threw my hydrangea away. I don’t like Monsieur Bonaparte very much right now. In fact, I shall deem him Monsieur Rip-a-part this very minute!
I like BEVO–he’s best logo for University of Texas! Hook ’em Horns!
I’m a proud Longhorn Mom. I like Bevo and I like to keep Austin Weird!
Don’t be boring. Be like Austin, Texas and be weird! It’s good for the soul!
Hoop Earrings. I can get my Hippie on!
I can only “hoop” you like these earrings too!
Our “Dinky Soleil” sign made of driftwood that hangs in between our kitchen and sunroom. It belonged to Bonaparte’s grandfather, J. H. Lartigue. He named his home in Opio Dinky Soleil and now our house in Phoenixville is Dinky Soleil.
I like naming our home Dinky Soleil. It’s got a nice ring and history to it…
Jacques-Henri Lartigue /Jean-Loup Sieff /sc
Hi Grandpa Bonaparte! I’m taking good care of your grandson! I like your photographs!
Toile fabric. It’s just so stuffy and old school.
Sometimes you just cannot follow a trend. I truly like this fuddy-duddy fabric! It’s “toile” I need to make me an interior designer!
Tortoiseshell hair clips.
I like these clips because I can twist and turn my hair and put it up in a clip like this and hide my bald spots. Wait! Is that a HAIR I see? Hmmmmm. I need to be a bit more gentle!
Money
Who doesn’t like money? I may not LOVE money, but I can assure you, I like the mon-mon a lot!!!
My fang
When the dentist wanted to file my fang down, I almost jumped out of the chair and attacked him with his drill. My fang is part of who I am! I’ll keep it. Besides–what if a vampire comes after me? I can stop him by showing him my tooth–he’ll leave me alone!
My lazy or crossed eye
I like my lazy eye. It’s really not lazy because I get to see two of everything! That means two slices of pie! I’m lucky! I also get to pretend my kids are twins!
Cicadas! Oh yes! I really like the chant that the cicadas sing. It’ very summer.
Hey man, they are cuter than roaches and not as annoying as bed bugs. Besides–I love their chant. It means summer is here!
Table settings. I like a beautiful table setting. It’s fun to dine divinely!
I’m a sucker for a nice table. It’s so nice to sit down to a well-dressed table. I like that!
Wrapping Christmas Gifts. It’s such a great feeling of accomplishment when the gifts are all wrapped and the wrapping just….well, it just blends!
This is what I’m talking about! I like the Christmas gifts to be stunning as they sit beneath the tree! I don’t like cleaning up the ripped paper though!
J’adore French Cinema. Ohlalalala.
I like following the adventures of Antoine Doinel. Sometimes it’s sad–and sometimes happy!
I like to bake. Mostly because I like to eat. And eat. And. Eat. Oh..and eat!
Mmmmmm. Fresh Brioche! It warms my heart–but widens my ass! I still like it though!
I like makeup. It makes me purdy!
Pucker up! I like the way makeup can change up my face! Sometimes, though, it’s just too much work–but I still like it!
I like the smell of Coppertone Suntan Lotion. Sometimes I apply it in the middle of winter—just so I can smell myself. I like to smell like summer.
I like the scent of Coppertone so much that I’ll wear it as cologne!
I like my life.
I’ll definitely take life over the alternative. Won’t you?????
I love my kids and I love Bonaparte—but this isn’t about “LOVE” –its’ about “LIKE”.
LOVE!
LOVE!
You know what else I like?
I like “Ideale Simplifie” by Laurent Voulzy. It makes me happy.
I like Laurent Voulzy. Here you go!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You will like him too. Oh Yes. You will!
Summer is over. Officially, Fall doesn’t roll in for another two weeks, but mentally; I’m done with the heat and humidity.
Which brings me to this—Bonaparte and I love going to the movies during the Summer months. For two hours we can enter into the world of Cinematic escapism. We can “see” a story come to life. Every summer brings a new crop of films for us…
This summer was different. We saw a movie. That’s right “A” movie together. “ONE” movie. We saw “Trainwreck” which we absolutely loved. It was a comedy with heart.
The ONLY great movie this summer! It brought back so many memories of my single life. Hey! Don’t judge!!!
I saw “Pitch Perfect 2” on my own. Bonaparte would have shuddered at the girliness and singing. I thought it was cute though.
What girl didn’t want to start singing after watching any “Pitch Perfect” movie?
Unfortunately, the selection of films this summer was zero to none. We literally had a train wreck of summer movies to choose from!
This wreck basically describes this summer’s mess of movies for adults!
It makes me wonder just what happened to the standards of screenwriting in Hollywood.
But. The slim selection got me to thinking…..and so I give you a flashback in time… Are you ready??????
One of my first “dates” with Bonaparte was a movie date. This was a bit different in that he didn’t tell me what movie we were going to see.
All I knew was that “Zuh mohvee ‘ed a beet of evrazin”.
Translation: The movie had a bit of everything.
We drove to an old movie theatre in Bala Cynwyd, close to Philly. As we approached the theatre, I saw the name of the film we were to see was “A Very Long Engagement’. As I entered the theatre, I noticed that the film was a French film starting Audrey Tautou.
The Bala Theater, formerly the Egyptian, was built in 1926.
Unfortunately, the theatre is now closed!
I also remember thinking it funny that Bonaparte was taking me to see a French film because we never talked about the kinds of movies we liked—it was obvious he wasn’t aware of my love of French Cinema!
The movie was great. An epic about WWI and lost love. The story’s message was great—never gives up searching! The costumes were right up my alley. Plus—a surprise role by the talented and bi-lingual Jodie Foster was a treat. What could be better?
Unbeknownst to Bonaparte, this American woman happened to be a huge fan of French flicks! “A Very Long Engagement” has since won a place in my top ten favorites of all time!
I cried. I laughed. I sighed. My heartstrings were tugged. My tissues were soaked.
When the movie ended, Bonaparte mentioned to me that he was extremely happy that I enjoyed the movie. But, I detected something deeper…
I looked at him with my raccoon eyes—thanks to non-waterproof mascara, and asked him just what he meant by that remark.
His answer went something like this:
“Eez impor’an to me zhat you lik Fhranch feem.” “Ah cahnnit be whiz a woh-mahn ‘ou dohn nit like Fhranch feemz!” “Ou pazz zuh tez!” “Em so ‘eppy!”
Translation: “It is important to me that you like French film.” “I cannot be with a woman who doesn’t like French films.” “You pass the test!” “I’m so happy!”
Honestly, at that moment I didn’t know whether to slap Bonaparte or drive away. Then I stopped and realized—this is what life could be like with a Frenchman.
We’ve been watching movies “togehzahr” since!
I did go on to explain to Monsieur Bonaparte that I had been a fan of French film for a long, long time. Back when I was single and living in New York City, I would often times catch a Truffaut film at the old Thalia theatre on West 95th Street off Broadway. My old neighborhood.
The”thalia” theatre. I spent many weekend hours here whenever a French film was shown.
I was introduced to the world of Francois Truffaut:
The movie that did it for me. Truffaut’s “The 400 Blows”. The first of his feature films and the first film to introduce Truffaut’s alter ego, Antoine Doinel. Based on the delinquent adventures of Truffaut’s difficult childhood, this movie had comedy and touching drama. Making it one of the greatest films ever made. If you get the chance, please see it. You will thank me!
Another great Truffaut film, “Jules et Jim”, about a tragic love triangle.
I actually had a long, long crush on Charles Denner after seeing “The Man Who Loved Women”–a touching comedy/drama. No man will ever come close to having the sexy speaking voice that Charles Denner had. Period!
The Thalia is the place I learned to love French Films.
“Calmos” was probably the most sexist movie I had ever seen in my life–but it was funny as Hell and I still laugh when I think about these two idiot men and their war with Amazonian women. Completely politically incorrect and great!
What exactly is it about French film that I love? Well, for one, the comedies are truly, truly funny. There is no such thing as “Politically Correctness” when it comes to the comedies of the French. They will make fun of everyone—and for a good laugh and a reminder that we really need to laugh at ourselves!
Many of the French dramas are incredibly moving and just touch the heart and tug at your emotions. The French know love. They know heartbreak. They know what it’s like to have families torn apart. Bonaparte’s dad summed it up in one simple sentence. “The war destroyed families.”
I still get choked up and my stomach does flip-flops at the mere mention of the film “Monsieur Klein”. Alan Delon plays a Roman Catholic art dealer in a case of mistaken identity because of his name. Intense moments ensue during the Nazi Occupation. I recommend this to all. When the movie ended, I was literally speechless. DVD is available on Amazon and Netflix (DVD only).
Anyway, if you are or are not familiar with French film, may I give you an offering of just a few the French films that I recommend? Note—there will be some shameless plugs for some of the movies that Bonaparte’s family has made and starred in!
Here we go-go!
“Amelie”. I watch this on a regular basis. The innocence of the quirky and lovely Amelie Poulain shines through in this movie about longing for love. I cry during the Nino/Amelie scene–Ohhhhh. No spoilers! I don’t want to ruin it if you haven’t seen it! Director Jean-Pierre Jeunet created a masterpiece of a story and a visual!
If you loved “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” you will enjoy “Priceless”. Audrey Tautou and the wonderful Gad Elmaleh play a couple of con-artists in Monte Carlo. It’s a light treat!
The original version of “La Guerre des Boutons” is the best. Filmed on Bonaparte’s Aunt’s and Uncle’s estate, it shows kids as they should be. Non-precocious–just kids having a war the way kids do! Bonaparte’s half-brothers are also in the movie–and they are really good! This movie was a tremendous success in France!
“The Chorus”–This is a film that is great for families to see. It’s told in flashback about the influence that one teacher had on the students in a French boarding school for “difficult” boys. Have tissues handy!
Before he was “The Artist”, Jean Dujardin starred in many films. Among them, this take on surfer movies. It is such a ridiculously funny movie. All the surfing stereotypes are there. Word is that a sequel is in the making–I cannot wait!
…speaking of Dujardin and “The Artist”. Michael Hazanavicius, director of “The Artist”, and his actress wife, Berenice Bejo, also of the same film, teamed up for “OSS 117–Cairo, Nest of Spies”. It was one of two OSS films that were made. Dujardin gets his James Bond on only to be a fumbling, sexist, dumb and politically incorrect spy. One of the funniest scenes of any movie I’ve ever seen has him wearing a Fez while attempting to be a musician! Greatness!
More political incorrectness and laughs in a case of mistaken identity! Louis de Funes is so ridiculous in this movie. His face alone will have you falling off your seat!
Jean de Florette and Manon of the Spring are two great and touching films based on the works of Marcel Pagnol. Auteuil went on to direct and star in more films based on Pagnol’s works. “The Well Digger’s Daughter”, “Fanny” “Marius” and “Cesar” . I saw all but “Cesar” and all were beautifully shot and moving stories. Honestly, if you get the chance, try to see any one or all of these. Pagnol’s stories of live in Provence at the turn of the century are heartwarming.
More Pagnol writing as film. Yves Robert’s verison of “My Father’s Glory” is a beautiful tribute to Pagnol’s memories of his family. I also recommend this as family viewing. The story follows a summer in the countryside of Marseille–and a son’s relationship with his father and family. It really is a sweet film.
A madcap adventure with two RAF bombers who fall into the hands of two innocent and not-to0-bright Frenchman during the Nazi Occupation of France. It follows their travels to the unoccupied South of France. This is one funny movie about a not-so-funny event de Funes and Bourvil make a great comedic team!
Another movie that tackles the subject of the Nazi’s in a different way The owner of a music hall is convicted of murder. His friends come up with a way to get the music hall back and running while the owner is sent away–the film is shot in flashback. It’s a drama with music–but it works!
The incredible Franco/American “Paris, Je T’Aime”. A fascinating collection of different vignettes set in and around Paris. It’s pretty much readily available. It’s such a beautiful movie too. I think I’ll watch it after I finish writing! You’ll see lots of familiar faces–including Natalie Portman!
“Welcome to the Sticks”. Danny Boon directed and start in this comedy about a “city sophisticate” who gets transferred to the French version of …well, the sticks..or what we deem the equivalent of “hillbilly country”…it’s pretty funny and was a huge success throughout France–the French can certainly laugh at themselves. And that’s a good thing!
If you want swashbuckling adventure along with laughs, “Cartouche” is for you! Thievery, adventure, love and lust, history–all bundled up in two hours of pure entertainment! THIS is a great alternative to the violent films of today! Honestly, I know it’s outdated but “Cartouche” is just so much fun!
The first “Angelique” movie had me hooked! Michele Mercier stars as the brave and adventurous “Angelique”. Follow her search for Jeoffrey, the man to whom she is to marry. Her adventures include being captured by a Sultan, her travels to Versailles and her never-ending search for her love. The funny part is that in every one of the five movies, Angelique is seen partially disrobed. It’s a total “WTF?”–but it’s just so…..so….FRENCH!! I think I shall be Angelique for Halloween!
Romy Schneider as Sissi
More French “Girl Power”! Romy Schneider plays “Sissi”. The young Empress Elizabeth of Austria. The three films about The Empress are a fun way to learn some history about the Hapsburg era. These films are also great for young girls to see as well. Sissi is shown as a feisty and spirited girl–which is positive!
Before the version with Leslie Caron, there was the ORIGINAL “Gigi”–starring Bonaparte’s aunt, Daniele Delorme. TMC shows this movie every so often–and includes the English subtitles. If you ever get the chance…… Click on the link below to see a clip!
Here’s a fun short that Bonaparte’s cousin Hugo Gelin made some years ago. It takes place from the “eyes” of an ATM. Watch the link below and spot some familiar faces!
Not every French film is a winner. I’ve seen some that are just wayyyyy too “talky”..and some that are just annoying. But the ones that I like and love and treasure outnumber the ones that are lousy. There are so many more films I would like to share with you–but I think I will make that yet another post!
Au Revour for today…and I’ll leave you with this…Yann Tiersen’s “La Valse Des Montres” from the film “Amelie”! Ohlalalalalalal!!!!! XOXOXO!
As a young student, my days were filled with learning Math, Science, Geography, History, Penmanship, Spelling and English.
The obligatory essentials of every young student!
I loved English, mostly because we were able to read many different books and write creative stories. We also had grammar and sentence structure and all the technical stuff that fell under the “English” studies, but my absolute favorites were reading and writing.
What better place to escape than in the pages of a book?
Reading was great because I separate myself from everyone and enter the world of stories. I was fascinated by how words could make up a grand story, a simple story, a funny story, a biographical story and even a scary story.
My favorite author was Beverly Cleary. I real all her books.
Forget Yeezus! MY inspiration was Beezus! Beverly Cleary created such a great character–one of the reasons I love to write is because of Cleary’s books!
From childhood into my early teen years, I enjoyed Cleary’s writing so much!
Beezus was my imaginary bestie! Henry Huggins was that annoying boy next door!
Cleary’s books about the frustrating life of Beezus and her pesty little sister, Ramona, made me want to get a pen, paper and never stop writing!
When I entered this world, I never wanted to leave. And when I DID leave, I knew I could write an epic report about it!
I looked forward to writing reports about the books I read. It was my chance to give an opinion. My opinion and nobody else’s!
Whenever we had to write a “Composition” or “Essay” or a “Theme”, my heart beat just a bit faster because I knew I would shine. That “A” would be mine!
Like Jean Shepherd’s “Ralphie”, I could not wait to write a “Theme”, or essay or composition!
Throughout my school days, my imagination and creativity came into view by writing.
My writing skills were still alive during my days working on Wall Street. I was lucky enough to work for a Vice President who trusted my skills enough to compose his letters and memos. Perhaps the writing wasn’t creative, but it still offered me a chance to get my thoughts across with the written word.
Later on, as a stay-at-home mom, I kept at my writing skills by offering my opinions to local newspapers and magazines. I was happy to see quite a few of my opinions and thoughts in print!
My letter in the Wall Street Journal…..
…my opinion in The Trenton Times….and..
….my thoughts in Allure magazine.
My most recent writing endeavors consist of being a contributing writer to FrenchEntree. It’s always fun to write about my adventures and misadventures during my travels to France—and it offers me a way to allow others to see those trips through my eyes.
I was thrilled to learn that my article would make the jump from the online FrenchEntree to the actual magazine!
It really is a thrill to see an article in print!
My other endeavor, my blog, came about when I became unemployed on the last day of the last year.
I always thought about starting a blog, but didn’t exactly know how to approach it. Being unemployed created all sorts of anxiety for me. Would I ever work again? How can I keep up with my skills? The longer I’m unemployed means the less my chances are of becoming re-employed. Nobody wants to hire someone who isn’t in their twenties……
My blog became my form of emotional rescue. When I’m feeling stressed, I write. When I’m upset, I write. When I’m happy, I write. When I’m sad. I write. When I have something to say, I write and I try to do so with a touch of humor!
I write because I like it. I write because I want to make people laugh. I write because there is a lot of wrong in this world—and if I can give someone—even one person, to escape that wrong for a few moments, I’ve done my job—through words.
Write on…and read on!
Song for today. Emotional Rescue by the Stones. Just because writing is.
Yes. It’s another Duggar post. I just cannot help myself! This family has been getting media coverage larger than Kim Kardashian’s ass for cryin’ out loud!
Anyway, I had a conference call with Hipster Jesus and Satan last night! I thanked both men for their help with my last Duggar post. My Interview With The Devil
If it weren’t for Hipster Jesus, I would have never had been able to visit Satan for that interview and make the return back home!
The Three Amigos! Hipster Jesus, Me, and Satan! We’ve been having serious discussions lately!
We got to talking and, well, one thing led to another and before you knew it both Jesus and Satan and I agreed on something. Hipster Jesus and Satan are so busy during back to school time–what with the teachers’ pets and the juvies—they have their hands full of good and naughty students!
What we agreed on is that Momma Michelle Duggar needs to shut down her home school and send the remainder of her school-aged litter, god’s gifts, result of Satan’s sinful lust, children to a regular school!
Michelle Duggar just isn’t cut out to be an educator. Come to think of it, she’s not cut out to be a mother either! (photo from Betty Bowers.com)
I thought good and hard about that. They were right. Since I’m a giver, I’m going to write about how the Duggar children could have been saved from the hypocritical extremist “Christian” Fundamentalist lifestyle and how they could have been saved from Michelle’s horrific version of home schooling.
But—it isn’t too late!
Josh, especially, had his pathetic parents taught him the difference between wrong and right, would have learned that you don’t practice sex education on your sisters and it is wrong to cheat on your wife!
Word on the street is that Joshie is in “fake” rehab! He’s so creepy! He was cheating on his wife. That wasn’t nice but she’s not that nice either. She writes hateful things about the gay community on her social media. One creep deserves another, I suppose!
Since Jim Bob and Michelle Duggashian are such great believers in Jesus and love to put the blame on Satan for sins of all kinds rather than their own conscience, their kids would have benefitted not just from a regular school education, but from a Catholic Schooleducation.
Gotta love Betty Bowers–she sees right through these phonies! It’s so true. They despise EVERYONE–and they USE godliness as an excuse!
I’m going to tell you why!
First of all, Michelle has no sense of style. Look at the way the children were dressed before they became the “Duggashians”.
I’m sorry, but these skirts are just wrong on so many levels. They need REAL uniforms!
I know, they still dress modestly, but if they wore parochial school uniforms, the kids would be so much more fashionable.
Look how cute and adorable these students look in their uniforms! The Duggar kids would look precious dressed like this!
Only caveat—it may make the teenaged girls more enticing to Jim Bob, Josh, and the rest of those slimy extremist Fundamentalist and Gothard-following men. Ewwwwww.
Look how cute and truly modest these uniforms are! The shoes on the boy are so trendy too!
Fear not, though. Nuns are extremely protective of girls. Especially if those girls want to run around and do “sinful” things like jump rope in front of boys.
The nuns will make the girls wear shorts under their skirt! THIS way the boys (and creepy men like Jim Bob) cannot be tempted. AND the girls can wear skirts that are cute and shorter and timelessly trendy!
Something tells me the Duggar girls would NOT be wearing shorts with “Mensa” displayed on the rear. Mommy Michelle would think it means something dirty about men!
The nuns would also make sure the girls never, ever, wear patent leather shoes. Don’t forget! Boys can look up a dress by looking down at a girl’s patent leather shoes. When those Catholic boys say they are “reflecting”, they ain’t talking about the spiritual kind!
No. No. No!! These shoes are forbidden in Catholic School. “Forbidden” is a word the Duggar parents LOVE–they really should consider a parochial education for their children!
But it’s all good because the good Sisters have that under control by making the girls wear dull oxford saddle shoes!
Well–perhaps Bass Weejuns would be a better alternative than these!
The point is, nuns—especially the Sisters that taught me, weren’t morons. They were well-aware of what boys and girls do. Rather than make girls stop having fun doing stuff that girls do, they just found a solution by making us girls wear the shorts under our uniforms. This way, the boys didn’t stand around trying to catch a glimpse of what kind of panties we were wearing, and the girls didn’t have to be embarrassed by the boys trying to look. Very simple.
Speaking of “Sisters”. Michelle is such an overwhelmed home educator that she has to force the older girls into mothering the younger children—”Sister Moms”.
Poor JanaSisterMom. She has her hands full now that Jill and Jessa are out of the prison house and married to a couple of self-righteous losers! But now Jana’s fate is sealed. She is the main Sister Mom!
If she places the younger children in Catholic School—she really will have sister moms!
I was lucky. I had a REAL Sister Mom. Actually it was my Sister Aunt, Sr. Thomas aka Aunt Eleanor! My mom and my aunts who had children were fortunate enough that there were TWO Sister Aunts in the family! They were loving and nurturing! And YES, that baby is ME!
Nuns may love to punish older kids, but they just love the “little ones”. Give a nun a small child and they melt! The nuns love to teach children the difference between real godliness and real sin; they can achieve this from the earliest age possible. AND—the nuns will do this without the Fundie “blanket training” method. Nuns wait till the kids are older to start with the capital punishment! Blanket Training in a nutshell. From Wiki
Did I mention punishment? When you go to Catholic school, you learn discipline and learn it quickly. Don’t worry about having to answer to God. Those socially inept and badly behaved Duggar children will have to answer to an even higher power than God. They will have to answer to a Catholic School Principal!
Sr. Mary Isabel, MY school principal. I get scared just looking at this picture. She was more strict than Hipster Jesus would ever be! (Thanks to Anne Neagle O’Sullivan, a classmate of mine at St. Pat’s for supplying this pic!)
The added benefit is that Catholic School students actually get marked for Conduct and Effort!!! Can you put A+ Effort into D- Conduct? I’ll never know because I would get the shit kicked outta me for asking a nun that question! That kick in the pants is still better than the blanket training the Duggar children must endure!
Now tell me, what other school would grade on Conduct and Effort?????
Michelle’s homeschooling doesn’t include “Skiense”. Oops. I’m getting all Duggar. I mean “Science”!
Contrary to what others may believe, Science is alive and well in Catholic school! So is technology!
Today’s Catholic Schools supply the students with Laptops! The Duggar kids would be right at home. After all, being a TLC celebrity has allowed the godly Duggars many seasons of life in which they can afford laptops and smartphones! But they STILL don’t watch TV!!!!
It’s all about the “Science Fairs”!The added benefit of having a project displayed at the Science Fair means that you get out of the classroom for a few hours during the fair! What child doesn’t love that?
This young man certainly deserves his award. He wants to save the fish, but what about the loaves?
Here’s another incredible science project. The Duggars can definitely learn from this because they drink a TON of soda!
Had it not been for Catholic School science fairs I would have never known about “Inertia”! Frank Cerebino’s award-winning project taught me so!
Frank used balls just like this to explain inertia! 50 years later and I still remember this project!
Who says Catholic school kids are repressed? Not me! Sex education starts in Catholic school at around 7th grade. Children just entering into their pre-teen and teenaged years need to be able to tell the difference between sinful behavior and acting with grace. What better way to experiment with “dirty feelings” than at a make out party!
This group looks like they’ve been taught the fine art of making out a long time ago!
Boys learn to cop a feel over a tissue-filled padded bra that doesn’t belong to their sister! Girls can sit on a boy’s lap and learn the difference between a wooden Number 2 pencil and a “woodie”! Joshie could have explored the forbidden forest on his female schoolmates rather than on his sisters if he was sent to Catholic school. Josh’s sins are Mortal!
Speaking of “mortal” sin. Catholic school explains sin in such a fun and entertaining way.
We Catholics don’t need a Bible to bang! We have the Baltimore Catechism instead!
You learn through fun illustrations in the Baltimore Catechism!
Uh oh! Looks like Josh Duggar’s milk bottle soul is filled with dark chocolate milk! So are Jim Bob’s and Michelle’s!
We know how to sacrifice too! I think I’ll have canned hash for dinner tonight as a sacrifice. Yuck!
Catholic School students are so well-aware of truly sinful behavior! What could be a worse sin than thinking about a TV show during Mass?
Catholics keep it simple too—with questions and answers:
Question: Why did God Make You?
Answer: God made me to know him, and love him, and serve him in this world!
Question: Why did Jesus perform his first miracle?
Answer: Because his mother asked him to.
That’s just as easy as “Why did Christian Louboutin make shoes?” (Shhhh—the answer is: Loubs made shoes to know him, and love him, and wear his shoes while serving him in this world!)
These Christian Louboutin shoes are just so sinful and they are what every Catholic School girl covets!
Missionary Workings:
Michelle and Jim Bob think being a *cough* “Missionary”, means not only Michelle on the bottom, but means going to a “third” world country and converting the Catholics to the extreme Fundamentalist lifestyle! Ouch!
Jill and Derrick “Duggashian” Dillard are missionaries.
Wow! Jill and Derrick Duggar/Dillard look like they are having a real struggle in El Salvador…….
…I’ll bet they are on a mission to find a FundieMom to take care of their baby. I’ll bet they bring this nice lady back home and let God pay her with good graces instead of money!
They are now trying to bribe the people in El Salvador over to the Fundie life by handing out photographs of the Duggar family.
Look! That lady in the middle is holding a photo of the Duggars that Derrick and Jill handed out. She doesn’t appear to be to thrilled about it either. Those missionaries!!!
Derrick and Jill’s Fundie missionary life style means playing at the beach and staying in a nice house!
Just WHO is Derrick converting–the fish?
REAL missionaries live in shacks…just sayin’!
A Catholic School education will teach the Duggar children about real missionaries.
They will receive a “Mite box”—which is a little cardboard box that Catholic students place their spare change and pennies into. They sacrifice buying candy bars to save the little pagan babies from Satan (sorry Satan, but it’s true. Besides YOU get the fake missionaries like the Duggars so it’s an even draw).
These little boxes can collect tons of change–and relieve dental bills!
Catholic Students read “Maryknoll” magazine. This is a must because it allows the student to read and look at photographs of what the Catholic missionaries actually do….
This group of Maryknoll Sisters is happy knowing they will actually be EDUCATING the poor people!
The real missionaries build schools and educate the children so that they can grow up and attend a real college and make a better life for themselves!!! I’m sure the Maryknoll missionaries don’t give candy to the poor people either. Instead, they find dentists to fix the teeth that were ruined by the sugary candies that fake missionaries like Jill and Derrick hand out!
This is a sampling of the kinds of photos we saw in Maryknoll Magazine! You can bet the Maryknoll missionaries built the school that the pictured classroom was in!
Looks like the missionaries also taught Math too!
The only sad thing about reading Maryknoll is that some of the missionaries were murdered because they placed their lives in danger. The only thing the Dillard/Duggar missionaries place themselves in is “People” magazine!
Anna and Josh Duggar are REALLY smiling because they knocked the THREE AMERICAN HEROS off from being the major cover photo on newsstands! I don’t like the way Josh is looking at me! I feel so….violated!
That’s right. Take one nun with a talent and who knows where it’ll take you! WE had Sr. Kathleen Marie and her baton twirling expertise!
Your’s truly! I was at the start of my “akward unibrow stage” but if anyone gave me trouble–I had my baton!
The Duggar girls sure could have learned to twirl a baton from Sr. Kathleen Marie—those batons could multitask as weapons of protections against the incestuous actions of Brother Josh!
Sr. Kathleen Marie surrounded by the St. Patrick School Twirlers! Those Duggar girls need to learn to use a baton too. For protection against Brother Josh!
St. Patrick’s School also had a marching band. Participating in a school band would be a tremendous asset to any Duggar child because they could march sinful thoughts out of their bodies with hours and hours of practice!
Catholic Schools also have clubs too. Clubs are the Catholic version of the after-school program. Art Club, Science Club, and the mother of ALL Catholic School Clubs. The Rosary Club.
No! It isn’t Michelle with Josie. It’s Mary the most divine mother of all time!
The Rosary Club would be such a beneficial club for the Duggar children to join. Instead of memorizing all those Psalms and their matching numbers, all they would need to know are The Glory Be, The Our Father, The Hail Mary—and for numbers sake— the FIVE mysteries of the Rosary.
I have my Rosaries hanging off my rear-view mirror in my car. I cannot begin to count the amount of Holy Rosaries I’ve recited to myself while stuck on the Belt Parkway or Route 422!
Catholics are the basic mathematicians of prayer!!
Catholic Schools are also diverse. You don’t have to be Catholic to attend Catholic school. When my sons attended St. Ignatius Loyola School in Manhattan, there were quite a few non-Catholics. There were even two Jewish students! It just means higher tuition rates—which the Duggars can afford since they have tons of money from both their TV adventures and their constant requests for donations begging of money!
These two love the money that their *ahem* Z-list celebrity status has brought them. They should use some of the money for tuition to give their children a better education than the one Michelle is giving them!
But the best thing that kids get out of Catholic School is that great sense of humor! Learn to laugh at yourself. Don’t take yourself too seriously. Yup! Ask almost any adult who attended Catholic school and they will laugh about the rituals, the punishments, the pranks, the nuns, and the weird shit like being “fined” for touching snow in the playground!
Catholic school may not be for everybody, but in the case of the Duggar children—it may be the best solution to get them away from the teachings of Jim Bob and Michelle!
Hmmph! I was IN this class but the school had the NERVE to take the photo on the one day that I was sick! Mrs. Michaelis was one very strict lay teacher!
Today’s song and oldie by the Knickerbockers (who sound a lot like the Beatles). “Lies”! Dedicated to Michelle and Jim Bob’s teachings!
Yesterday was my dad’s birthday. The One! The Only! The Ever-memorable Tommy Wynne—the man we lovingly referred to as…………….drumroll please………”El-Cheapo”!
Actually, my dad was quite proud of this nickname!
He was great—and he is surely missed not only by my family, but by all those who knew and loved him. He was a good kind of special.
He passed away when he was 64 because his heart simply stopped beating.
A New Yawk Cop with a heart of gold and a great sense of humor who never had to pull out his gun!
..and you wonder where I get my “spectacular” looks from!!! Seriously–weren’t my parents adorable? My dad was so handsome AND proud of his NYPD uniform!
But instead of waxing all sorts of sentimental and being all weepy, I’m just going to honor him with a listing of cool and fun stuff I remember about my dad. So here goes….
He really was “el cheapo” and we used to kid him about it all the time. He honestly didn’t give two shits what anyone thought of his cheapness either. After my dad retired from the NYPD, he and my mom moved to the West Coast of Florida; the Tampa area.
Anyway, on one of my visits, we all decided to make a day trip at Disney World. Granted, my dad would only go to Disney when they were having the “Florida Resident” fee, but what he pulled that day was classic “El Cheapo”. Lunch. We all sat down at a table waiting to be served and we couldn’t find my dad. He ended up at a hot dog stand because he refused to spend “idiotic” amounts of money for lunch! He just wasn’t a Disney fan either. All he could say whenever he reached the entrance was this:
“Oh for crissakes–to think a MOUSE started all this garbage”…and he would shake his head. We just eye rolled and laughed at his remarks! It was funny–and he had a point!
Nothing bothered my dad–not even the whinging and whining of his grandchildren. I look like Hell. Pregnant with Oona, Roman not happy–but my dad–he seems to be enjoying this scene!
Oh..did I mention? My dad was NEVER a slave to fashion. My mother would be mortified at his “going out in public” with a sleeveless t. shirt. He would laugh and tell her that the money saved was for her wardrobe! Here he is, once again, with a smile on his face because he saved money at Disney by eating a cheap lunch!
When I worked in the World Trade Center, he met me for lunch one day. My Aunt Terry also worked in the WTC and joined us. Now—this was back in the 1970’s, and when he saw the menu he refused to pay $6.00 for a sandwich. He sat there while my aunt and I ate—he refused to order—and we offered to pay but he wouldn’t have it. It was the “principal”.
As kids we were often times invited to the local Country Club as guests of our friends. One of the members had approached my dad and suggested our family become members—there would be no problem being accepted. My dad’s answer was “Why should I pay when my kids can go as guests!”.
My dad’s motto was “Southward Ho No–I’m not paying!”
True dat—and I laugh as I write this.
His favorite snack in the entire world was “Mallomars”—this confection being only sold during certain months of the year. Made of a graham cracker bottom layer and a fluffy rounded dome of marshmallow, topped with a chocolate shell, these tasty bits were his nirvana. We literally had to ask his permission if we wanted one. He kept them in the freezer and took to counting how many were in the box.
If he ever came home to an empty box of these, we would be answering to a much higher power than my dad! He LIVED for these things!
Luckily, none of us kids were crazy about Mallomars—if we were, I have no idea of what would have transpired.
He also had words and sayings that we referred to as “Tommyisms”
If we screwed up he would call us (and be patient because I’m spelling this phonetically—I don’t know Gaelic) “Omadons“. This is basically a Gaelic word for “moronic dopey person who made a huge mistake”.
If something didn’t make sense—like when he got a bad hand playing cards, he would announce it’s “Asshole to Breakfast time.” Years later I still cannot process the true meaning.
I’m guessing this is “asshole to breakfast time”! What a quote!
“Speak to me again, sweet lips, so I know where to find youuuuu“ was another of his favored sayings. This announcement always followed his passing of gas. Usually in the family room while we were all gathered around watching TV. My mother would always get really disgusted and leave the room, while we kids howled laughing! What kid doesn’t enjoy a dad who farts with glee?????
I know. I know. I know full well that my dad’s sense of humor could be crude. But it was funny as hell. Especially for kids–and he aimed to make us laugh! At EVERYTHING!
He always said “zed” instead of the letter “z”. I think that was the influence of my Irish grandparents. The nuns had quite the job explaining to me that “zed” just wasn’t used in the USA!
“Naught” for “zero” or “nothing”.
We all had nicknames. I swear to you, if anyone heard him call us, you would think we were a pack of wild wolves—Catherine, Theresa, Tommy, Germaine, and Peter were replaced with “Katie”, “Sissy”, “Skithers”, “Mainzie” and “Munzie”. That’s right. My dad never called me by my given name. It was always “Katie”—I’m guessing he liked me best because I had the most normal nickname!
The beginning of the pack of dogs nicknames. My and Sissy. My mom was pregnant with my brother Tommy, aka “Skithers” in this pic! ( I am NOT even going to go about explaining how THAT nickname was acquired!).
All kidding aside, he was the most incredibly doting dad!
Look at how my dad is so happy to see me! Probably because I couldn’t talk back!
His grandkids were everything to him!
My dad with Jake, Oona and Roman right before his heart stopped beating!
He’s the reason Oona took Irish Dance lessons–I only wish he had lived to see her dance and compete. He would have been so proud! But–he would have gone ballistic at the price I paid for her dresses. El Cheapo would resurface!
His voice was loud. He spoke with the “tickest” of Brooklyn accents.
On his “off” tours from work, he would come down to the schoolyard at St. Patrick’s and organize ball games for the boys. In fact, when we had a bomb scare at school (yes, lunatics were around in the mid-1960’s as well as now—only now there are more), my dad was the first one on the scene!
My brothers were excellent baseball players (both received baseball scholarships to college). Because my dad was such a baseball helicopter dad, there were times when his enthusiasm and criticism of the coaches became too much. As such my brother Pete’s coach had to place a tarp over the fence at home place so that my dad couldn’t see what was going on.
My mother came from an incredibly large family. Some of her brothers and brothers-in-law liked to partake of certain beverages. There were quite a few late weekend phone calls in which my dad would have to drive to various police stations throughout Long Island to ensure that my uncles got home safe. He never minded those calls.
I don’t think my dad knew what he was in for when he married into such a large family!
Who also knew this well-dressed groom would end up with a penchant for sleeveless t-shirts and (ugh) polyester baseball caps!!!
In fact, he always reminded us that if we were at a party and felt uncomfortable to CALL him at home. No matter what time and he would come and pick us up without any questions. He was true to his word.
After his first heart attack, he was told to quit smoking (he had a two-pack-a-day habit). He did, and replaced cigarettes with toothpicks. He always had a toothpick in his mouth!
He played poker every Friday night that he wasn’t working. We always knew when he won because the next day my mother would take a trip to the beauty parlor. When he lost, we would find him sleeping on the sofa in the family room the following morning.
This portrait pretty much sums it up–his love for poker and toothpicks! Oh..and note another clue to his el-cheapo-ness. Sunglass clip-on lenses in the wrong size. I’m sure he paid less than a buck for those beauties! I miss those nuances of his!
Being the only son in his family, he was treated like royalty. So much so, that when we went to visit my grandparents, we kids were NOT allowed to be served tea and biscuits or pound cake until my father was served first.
My grandmother, Margaret. Nobody got served before my dad!
Mmmmm. Mmmmmm! Leave some for us Da!!!
On any given Sunday during those cold winter months, when my dad was also in between police tours, you could find him seated in the living room. Not watching football, but waiting for us to come to him and recite whatever memorization homework we were given.
God forbid we missed a word—he would make us march back into our rooms to keep studying…and memorizing.
Actually, one Christmas we surprised him with a Baltimore Catechism—we were all laughing so hard at the sight of my dad being excited over this dogmatic gift that we were almost choking. My dad called us over and started asking us questions from that old-school book. I’ll be a sonovabitch if we all weren’t able to answer every question just as perfectly as we did many years ago! He beamed!
You have NO idea how many times we were quizzed on everything from why God made us to the Apostle’s Creed. At that time the only creed I wanted was Creedence Clearwater!
My mother, who despised Western movies, refused to accompany him to his favorite cinematic genre. Instead, I was the chosen one who got to sit next to him watching the iconic films like “Sons of Katie Elder” and “A Man Called Horse”.
Luckily for me, having a dad who was a cop meant that I could accompany him to the movies on a school night if he had weekend duty!
I had no words to even come close to describing THIS movie–but even as a young teenager, I still managed to see movies with my dad!
I was the winner in this because he would always get me the oversized box of malted milk balls.
..and the BEST part was coming home with an almost empty box and finishing it in front of my younger brothers and sisters. Yeah–I was THAT sister!
When I attended a school reunion about twenty years ago, many of the guys I went to school approached me and asked how my dad was. What about me????? He had passed away but it was so touching that these guys all remembered my dad so fondly.
He may have been a disciplinarian, but he was also our great defender. I remember once I was slapped clear across the face by Sr. Mary Josephita—the mere mention of her name gives me Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. This nun, who was most likely the most satanic sister in the history of St. Patrick’s grammar school, thought I gave her cheeky answer to a question. I was both humiliated and in extreme pain, but I would not give her the satisfaction of shedding one tear.
Anyway, when I arrived home, my dad noticed the welts in the shape of fingers. I told him what happened.
He took me in the car and we drove to the convent. Now—remember, my dad was very good friends with the nuns—he organized games and would buy beer for the nuns’ beer and pretzel parties. He spoke to the principal, Sr. Mary Isabel, and told her that if anything like this ever happened again, all of his kids (four at the time) would be taken out of the school and placed into PUBLIC SCHOOL! Mention something like that to a nun and boy—things turn around quickly!!
I was so proud and happy of my dad that day! I knew from then on, he would always have my back!
I’m sure that when this picture was taken during my parent’s dating time, my dad NEVER imagined he would threaten a nun with sending his children to public school!
Not a day goes by that I don’t think of you dad. Some days I cry when things suck and I can’t have you here to talk me through it. Some days I laugh just thinking about the fun we had! I miss you and love you!
I just miss hanging out with him. And I KNOW he and Bonaparte would have spent hours upon hours discussing WWII–one of his favorite subjects!
Tom’s heart may have stopped beating, but we all hold his memories close to our own hearts.
My parents were reunited three years ago. I’m sure they are having a grand time dancing and laughing together and swinging on stars…..
..speaking of swinging on stars….I’m posting one of my dad’s favorite songs. He sang it to us when we were younger–“Swinging on a Star!” Bing Crosby sings!
Thanks to Becky of “We Are That Couple” for nominating me for The Sunshine Blogger Award.
Have a look. How can you NOT love a blog about a couple who travels and loves cawfee and beer? We Are That Couple
I’ve been asked a few questions that I’ve answered……………………
What types of books do you like to read?
I really enjoy fiction. I like a good story that makes me think and is gripping or a fun, light, humorous story that makes me laugh. Either way, they have to be well-written or my interest and focus are gone.
Who is/are your favorite author(s)? Why?
I love JoJo Moynes books. She is a great story teller in the most simple form. Her books tell stories with a lot of substance and not fluff.
I also love James Lee Burke—his writing is just so incredible. He feels his words and when you read his books, most take place in New Orleans and throughout Louisiana, you can practically feel the sweat dripping from the characters’ faces.
Why do you blog?
I started to blog because I needed something to keep my occupied during my unemployment. Actually, that was the push I needed because I thought about blogging long before I became unemployed. The more I blog, the more I like it-it’s fun to get your thoughts and words out there!
What are your favorite weekend activities/hobbies?
I’m pretty much a lazy person. In the summer, I like being at the shore or being in the comfort of an air-conditioned movie theater. During the cooler months I like to spend the weekends cooking and baking. But—all year round I enjoy driving into NYC to hang out with my kids or just to hang out with Bonaparte.
When you were little, what did you want to be? And did you?
I wanted to either be an actor or a fashion designer. Nope!
Where would you like to travel if time/money were not an issue?
If money weren’t an issue, I would go to India for a month or so. I love the Indian culture—it’s just so peaceful and spiritual. I love the colors of India and the food. I think I’d be pretty comfortable there. I would also love to spend time in Brittany and Corsica.
Where have you traveled? Favorite place?
Domestically—up and down the Eastern Seaboard; Texas and Louisiana. I LOVE New Orleans.
Internationally: Ireland, Northern Ireland, Australia, Italy, France. France is my favorite place. I’m extremely comfortable in Paris—it’s just like being in New York City—easy to blend in. I also love the Cote d’ Azur—I get sick when I have to leave. Burgundy is beautiful too. I would live there.
How do you feel about organized religion?
That’s a great question. I was born and raised Roman Catholic. In my years in Catholic school, I never once remember hearing any of the nuns or priests saying a bad word or nasty thing about other religions.
I have issues with people who try to push their religious ideology down other people’s throats and try to “convert” them. Respect my beliefs and I’ll respect yours.
I also have a big time issue with the fundamentalists and religious extremists—like the Quiverfull and Gothard people. They use and exploit Christianity to the nth degree.
In addition, religion has NO place at all in politics. NONE AT ALL! That’s the big issue in our country right now. The religious Christian extremists are trying to spew their hate and bigotry into politics. Nope! Church and State SHOULD be separate entities.
Do you think people are inherently good?
I think people are inherently naïve and innocent. As they grow the values they receive from their parents and the guidance from their parents of right v. wrong makes them either good people or not good.
Is love at first sight real?
For some yes. I think for others it can be more of a “chemistry” at first sight.
Is it the quantity or quality of friends that count in life?
Quality. I would rather have one or two amazing friends than many acquaintances.
While savoring my morning cup of cawfee, I heard many young voices coming from outside. When I looked out the window, I saw a familiar scene. Kids with backpacks. Moms walking beside them—some with strollers in tow; some with dogs in tow; and some with both. All happily on their way to the bus stop!
Today is the first day back to school!
Who doesn’t love going back to school?
….especially when THIS is the meet & greet team!
Oh the memories I have! Not only of my kids’ first days of school, but I have memories of all their school days. Years from Kindergarten all the way through college graduation have given me many fun and not-so-fun visuals.
Jake’s first day of kindergarten paved the way of what the future would hold. For me, it was a very sad day to take my then, 4-year old son on the subway to the Upper East Side and drop him off at St. Ignatius. I wanted him to be home with me all the time. When I saw him march off to his classroom with Mrs. Wescott I started to cry. Jake shot me a look that said “Stop it!” and he ignored me.
Jake’s first day of school–on the subway platform for the ride to St. Ignatius!
Ten minutes later I was seated in a restaurant having cawfee and breakfast with a group of new mom friends—friends that remained for a long time. That first day wasn’t so bad after all!
Roman’s first day was a bit different. He exited the school holding his stomach in pain. One of the nuns saw him and told me to follow her, Roman in between us, to the boy’s room. He had to go and was petrified of going down to the bowels (pun intended?) of the school by himself! After that incident—he was fine.
By the time Roman entered Kindergarten, I wised up and drove the boys to school!
Oona’s kindergarten experience was different. She was my only child to start school in the suburbs AND start in public school. The principal of Bear Tavern School made home visits to the incoming kindergarteners. Oona looked at him and told him very firmly “I’m NOT going to school”. “I’m staying home with my mommy!” (Secretly I loved that!). The principal pulled me to the side and told me just as firmly “You are NOT going to drive her to school on the first day.” “Oona will take the bus.”. He was so stern that I had no choice!
There’s Oona front and center. She may have attended Kindergarten in public school, but I dressed her like a Catholic school child–plaid skirt and white shirt!
An angry and scared little girl may have gotten on that bus, but when she came off the bus later in the afternoon, I could hear her say to the bus driver “Bye Grace!”
A great bus driver is so important–and we’ve had some great ones!
When she saw me, she ran up and told me that she couldn’t wait till the next day to go back to school!
“HELLO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
And then there was the mad rush for supplies.
Me, being “bad mom”, was never in a hurry to carry this chore through during the end of summer vacation. It was far more important for me to sit and bake by the pool while the kids went swimming!
I was the mom who had to scramble to ten different stores to find the supplies that the previous stores ran out of! Needless to say, the boys weren’t that much phased by my lack of supply interest, but my tardiness with school supplies drove Oona up the wall!
It usually took me a trip to about ten stores to round up the needed supplies–and every year I vowed to do it early the next year! Never happened!
God forbid the stores run out of Lisa Frank- notebooks, folders and stickers-it was major meltdown for Oona!
Last year I found out that Oona was traumatized because the one thing she ever wanted was a monogrammed L.L. Bean backpack. She hated the fact I only bought Jansports. One year, I apparently had a Jansport monogrammed in an effort to please her. It didn’t work.
Can you please tell me just what is WRONG with this sturdy backpack. The boys could care less! I was just trying to teach Oona the worth of a classic, and not trendy backpack. (Oh wait–L.L. Bean is pretty classic. Oops!)
I have absolutely NO recollection of this backpack issue. I’m pretty sure it has to be because whenever she asked me for the L.L. Bean backpack, I must have been on my bed, pillow resting between my legs and groaning with the worst menstrual cramps—it’s the only excuse I can think of!
But seriously—the other memories I have are just fun.
After we moved to New Jersey, our neighborhood tradition was a first-day-of-school pizza and cake party. This was such a success that the kids looked forward to this all through High School!
One of the many “first-day-of-school” pics of the Navesink Drive kids! I love this pic–it’s like the “Our Gang” of the 90’s!
Running around like a crazy-person to get the kids to their various sports activities—there was always a soccer, basketball or baseball game going on. Driving Oona up to North Jersey for Irish Dance classes sometimes three times a week.
Baseball games in Inwood Hill Park before the move to the ‘burbs!
The results of thrice-weekly dance classes and homework in the car! That’s my favorite dance dress of Oona’s–its the only one we saved and didn’t sell.
I think Oona stopped playing rec soccer due to her allergies! She suffered terribly as shown here. BTW, I still cannot find all the pics of the kids. I can’t find Roman’s baseball or soccer pics. I feel bad–more proof of bad mom!
My Town and Country minivan serving as a homework nook AND dining car—while driving more than three bodies around!
My beloved Town and Country Minivan was this color–and the fun and drama that went on in that car was priceless!
The misadventures of being both a room mom AND a P.T. O. queen!
My PTO Queen tiara that I wore so well!
Baking treats for the kids’ classes and being a part of various school events.
Halloween in public school was much different. You weren’t (and I’m pretty sure still are not) allowed to wear “scary” costumes….
Catholic school was more liberal–Roman’s my little Dracula…..
…and Jake was the Penguin. Scary! Ohhhhhhhhh.
I loved the way Jake was so methodical about his homework process during his middle and high school years. He would lay all his books on the floor of his room—opened to the needed pages. He would turn his TV or CD player on for background noise and assertively approach each subject. As each task was done, he would close the books-like an assembly line. He was incredibly disciplined.
Even in Kindergarten he would methodically attack each letter of the alphabet for that night’s homework. If he went over the line, he would start again.
Roman took a more devil-may-care way approach to homework. It didn’t matter if he went outside the lines because he just did it and was always happy to finish the project.
As he got older, sometimes he would just “forget” and would rely on his charm—which worked!
Oona was a blend of the two, serious less disciplined! But boy, could that girl attack a book. She loved to read!
Helicopter mom notwithstanding, I remember when Jake was in second grade and received a “B+” in one of his subjects. Jackass that I am, made a remark about his “low grade” to his teacher, the wonderful Sr. Genevieve. She told me that she was a teacher far longer than I was a mother and if she gave even the best students all “A’s” in the second grade, what did they have to strive for? That was some of the best advice I ever heard from a teacher—she basically told me to chill.
Sr. Genevieve–here she is with Roman at his Communion! One snowy days she would have the kids turn their desks toward the window to watch the snow. At the end of the school year she would give awesome homework assigmnents such as “go outside and play in this wonderful weather God has given us”–I’m not kidding–THAT is the best homework assignment any lazy mother could wish her kids to have!
Another teacher, Sr. Christine also put me in my “obnoxious mommy” place. I asked her why she wasn’t giving the first grade students study guides for their mid-term exams.
She reminded me that my child was in first grade. She also reiterated that if she wasn’t getting through to their six-year old minds, then she wasn’t being a very good teacher!
Gotta love those nuns! Gotta love any great teacher and my children, for the most part, were lucky!
School years are not without drama though. There’s always the mom and dad whose kids will always be better, brighter, smarter, more advanced than your child. I avoided those moms like the plague!
What about school photos? Those photos are absolutely, THE best time capsule for tracking your child’s school years. Come. Take a look at my collection (or at least the ones I actually found!)
Here’s an oldie but goodie. Nothing says “Thanksgiving” celebration better than raisins, popcorn and a lollipop!
Jake–I think maybe 4th grade. I could never figure out why the kids didn’t have to wear uniforms on picture day–it was more work for ME!
Second grade Jake?
Into the ‘burbs and Junior High Jake!
Jake at University of Texas. His job during his college years was filming Friday night high school football. A real-life Friday Night Lights!
My UT Grad!
Roman–First grade or Kindergarten–am I the only mom who doesn’t date the back of these school pics?
This looks like Third Grade Roman…..
I can tell you this was Sophomore High School Roman. We were at a baseball awards dinner and I protested to have it held somewhere else besides the place we had it. There was NO A/C and my hair was a frizzy mess! Roman looks adorable though!
High School Graduation Roman! He looks so pensive–maybe he was afraid I would embarrass him!
Oona, Roman and Me–Jake stayed in Austin during his college summers! Wow-I had premature turkey neck!
Graduation-City College of New York! I call this Roman’s “Boris Badenov” look!
My favorite school pic of Oona. Her allergies were bad, but I just loved this haircut on her! Third grade!
Getting on the bus in first grade. Check out the glasses and denim jacket! What a little fashionista!
I dunno–maybe fourth or fifth grade…
This is crazy! In the first place, I have NO idea what those stains on Oona’s shirt are from? Maybe it’s water! But–I give Oona a shitload of credit for actually allowing me to go into school the day before school started and snap this pic in front of her classroom. Mrs. Brindle, her teacher was so awesome. I’m feeling extra bad because I cannot believe I would let my daughter leave the house with a stained shirt!!!
Either I surprised Oona or she was just stunned from spending so much time in the car going back and forth to dance classes! Team awards at the Oireachtas. Irish Dance was her sport!
Graduation. My little Delta Gamma girl graduated from U. of MD!
Before you know it, Kindergarten is a fleeting moment and you will be looking at colleges—then you’ll turn around and your child will be an adult venturing out with a career and a new life—one that excludes you!
So enjoy every moment. Enjoy the tears and the fears and the excitement and the crushes and the activities and great moments and the awful moments because they just go too fast!
My babies’ high school senior portraits!
Here’s to you Jake, Roman, and Oona. I thank you for allowing me to be a part of your school days. Thank you for never being embarrassed when I showed up as room mom or as a chaperone for a field trip. Thank you for dealing with my screetching and squealing during your games and other activities. Thank you for allowing me to be a proponent of yours! Thank you for giving me the best memories a mom could ever want!!!
Today– I HAVE to give you The Beach Boys “Be True To Your School!” Rah Rah!
…speaking of Dujardin and “The Artist”. Michael Hazanavicius, director of “The Artist”, and his actress wife, Berenice Bejo, also of the same film, teamed up for “OSS 117–Cairo, Nest of Spies”. It was one of two OSS films that were made. Dujardin gets his James Bond on only to be a fumbling, sexist, dumb and politically incorrect spy. One of the funniest scenes of any movie I’ve ever seen has him wearing a Fez while attempting to be a musician! Greatness!
