Evolving at the Speed of Life

On Second Thought...

Shortly after I first moved to Manhattan I was having breakfast at a diner on the west side with a friend.  Small place.  Maybe 12 tables.  I noticed an elderly man eating by himself.  He was well dressed.  Sunday best, so to speak.  He had spread one napkin on the table to use as a placemat, tucked another into his collar and was eating his meal.  I was overwhelmed.  I thought it was so incredibly sad that this man was by himself.  That at this stage of his life he had nobody to spend Sunday with.  Recent events in my life sparked this memory, and I have a new appreciation for how fortunate this man was.  He was mobile, self-sufficient and perfectly happy to sit at the diner and read the Sunday paper.  Not all of us will age as gracefully.

Remembering Aunt Stella

My Aunt Stella passed away earlier this week.  (This is a picture of Aunt Stella, Aunt Mitzi, me, Aunt Esther.)

Growing up we were a family that traveled like a nomadic tribe.  Sundays in Brighton Beach.  Summers at Schimmels bungalow colony.  Camp Merrimac visiting days.  Miami.  London.

There were many years when we made the annual family trip to the Borscht Belt in the Catskill Mountains.  We traveled en mass.  Descending on some unsuspecting hotel like a swarm.  Back then Saturday night was a glamorous affair.  Friday night was, so to speak, more "casual".  My earliest memory of my Aunt Stella was at one of those hotels.  I think it was the Raleigh.  Friday night she came down to dinner in this elegant cocktail dress.  If I remember correctly it had spaghetti straps and marabou feathers at the hem.  I'm not sure about the color.  Maybe pink.  Saturday night, being formal, called for a gown.  Same dress. Black.  Floor length.

The Urban Dictionary defines a "fashionista" as a positive, powerful woman with a natural flair for style.  Stella was, without a doubt, a "fashionista" before Carrie Bradshaw and The Devil Wears Prada.  I don't remember jeans.  Or sneakers.  Nothing less than a full ensemble.  Not a moment when she wasn't impeccably dressed.  Always with flair.  She definitely had presence.

She was, though, much more than that.

My Aunt was generous.  Her home was always open to family and friends.  Everyone was welcome.  Uncle Eddie and Aunt Stella moved from Elmont to Jericho when I was starting high school.  Susan had gone to college already, but Marci and I were in the same grade.  We had the same friends.  We had parties and we invaded their house on Sutton Place on a regular basis.  While I'm sure we were a handful, I never heard a complaint.

You know, the things we remember are often random.  And then there are those moments that teach you the meaning of a word like generosity.  One day my mother and I were visiting.  Aunt Stella was showing us a slide necklace that she had picked up at an antique fair.  A long gold chain with a round sliding charm...diamonds in a circle and an opal in the middle.  It was the most beautiful thing, and when I told her how much I liked it she gave it to me.  Just like that.  On the front steps of her house.  It took me a long time to collect enough slides to make it a bracelet, but when look at the finished project it's still the one round charm with the diamonds and the opal that is my focal point.

My Aunt was unfailingly loyal.  All families have their differences.  For our family, sometimes those differences resulted in rifts that lasted years.  Sides are taken and disagreements can take on a life of their own over time.  Aunt Stella never got in the middle of it.  Truly...I never heard her speak a bad word about a member of the family.  She knew that time heals and that eventually whatever it was would be resolved.  She was unwavering in her loyalty to the family and tried always to bring people together.  It was often difficult to do, but she pulled it off.  I learned a lot from her and try hard to follow her example. 

Most of all she was fiercely devoted to her daughters, Marci and Susan, their husbands, Lenny and Joel, and her  four wonderful grandsons.  And to my Uncle Eddie.  Last winter he was in the hospital.  He was quite sick and my parents were flying down to visit.  Aunt Stella called my cell and said, "Listen...you get hold of them before they come to the hospital.  I've told Eddie that your father has to come down here on business.  I do NOT want him to think he's so sick that they had to fly down."  Fiercely protective and as wild for him then as the day they got married.

Stella was a special aunt, sister, grandmother, mother, and wife.  The family wouldn't have been the same without her.  She'll be missed and remembered always.

Finding A Cure: How Many Kids Does It Take?

Yesterday I participated in the inaugural Hope Walk to raise money for Autism United, a new organization that provides support services for people with Autism on Long Island, New York.  Proceeds from the fund raiser will fund two initial projects...the Harvey Weisenberg Resource Center and a comprehensive study of people with Autism in the region.  This is a pilot program that will influence services and research nationally,,  My team...Sophie's Team, in honor of my niece...raised more than $12,300 from friends and family.  The organization as a whole raised more than $82,000.  I thank everyone who participated either with a donation or moral support.  As a first effort for a start up organization it was spectacular!

In 1988 the masses were introduced to the idea of Autism with the release of Rainman starring Tom Cruise and Dustin Hoffman.  Bob Wright, former Chairman of NBC Universal, and his wife Suzanne were the force of nature that created Autism Speaks.  In the last few weeks Jenny McCarthy has been on the talk show circuit talking about her new book, Louder Than Words chronicling the story of how her son is recovering from Autism.  (By the way, she has been emphatic about using the term "has Autism", as in "has a disease", rather than "is Autistic" as in defining a personal trait.)  Holly Robinson Peete is also speaking out about her son's struggle with Autism.  Cathy Moriarty, Chaka Khan, Joe Mantegna, Anthony Edwards, Didi Conn.  All have family members who are afflicted.

Personally, I can think offhand of 15 people in my life with family members who are afflicted.  Every day they talk to doctors and therapists and teachers and holistic healers and anyone else who can give them direction and hope.

As to be expected, there are dissenting views.  Autism Speaks merged with Cure Autism Now (C.A.N.) and there are many who feel the organization leadership is tied too closely to corporate health care and pharmaceuticals to be objective about the potential link between vaccinations and Autism.  Most of their research to date seems to have focused on genetics.  Others are investigating older fathers, testosterone in the mother's womb, and related theories.  Others think the preservative in the vaccinations...thimerosal, is a mercury-based compound used to prolong the efficacy of the vaccines...is the reason.  And others thing the vaccinations can trigger a genetic pre-disposition to the disease.  It will take a long, long time to sort all of this out and find effective courses of treatment for the 1 out of 150 kids on the Autism spectrum. 

One thing is clear, though.  There are families out there who are in desperate need of guidance.  Like the couple with a child that is exhibiting all of the signs but they are in denial.  And like the woman who has been getting advice from her son's school to have him tested and can't wrap her mind around the potential diagnosis.  Autism United was created for them and other families like them.  There is a family in Mineola, New York who has a daughter with Autism.  Recently she left the house before dawn, crossed a major intersection, climbed up on a truck and stayed there until the driver showed up at 7 AM for his shift.  They are a family of modest means.  Autism United is guiding them through the New York State bureaucracy.  It turns out that the state will pay for installation of alarms and fence in the yard so they can sleep at night. 

Yep...Sunday was a great day!

1967 Redux

Last night I saw Hair.  No, you are not having a flashback.  September 23, 2007.  Hair.  Performed live in New York at the Delacorte Theater in Central Park.  First time since the original Broadway run closed on July 1, 1972 after 1,742 performances.  It's been 40 years.  A bit of triva...

In the original cast...Melba Moore, Shelley Plimpton, Paul Jabara and Diane Keaton!

My mother took my sister, Barbara, and I to see Hair during the original run.  We were in our early teens at the time and had front row seats.  The fact that there was full frontal nudity had been widely publicized.  No surprises (although it did scare my sister a little).  But seeing the show again as an adult was a transformational experience.

On a personal note, my mother was apparently far more hip than I gave her credit for.  I'm not sure I would have taken kids to see it.  Not because of the nudity.  Because at a point in time when adults were trying desperately to "protect" their kids from the evils of war and recreational sex, this theatrical event was a rallying cry. 

From a cultural perspective, you would expect it to be nostalgic, and it was.  It brought me right back to the 60s.  I could almost smell the pot in the school parking lot.  It's also relevant...No more war!  And philosophical...Check out the lyrics to "Air" and consider how we allowed the environment to deteriorate this far.

Welcome! sulphur dioxide
Hello! carbon monoxide
The air, the air
Is everywhere
Breath deep, while you sleep
Breath deep
Bless you, alcohol bloodstream
Save me, nicotine lung steam
Incense, incense
Is in the air
Breath deep, while you sleep
Breath deep
Cataclysmic ectoplasm
Fallout atomic orgasm
Vapor and fume
At the stone of my tomb
Breathing like a sullen perfume
Eating at the stone of my tomb
Welcome! sulphur dioxide
Hello! carbon monoxide
The air, the air
Is everywhere
Breath deep, while you sleep
Breath deep

It was mind bending.  I hope the Public Theater brings it back to play to a whole new generation.  Maybe they can learn from our mistakes.

Summer 2007: The End

I can't believe Summer 2007 is over.   This past weekend I went to the beach with Lucy Fay to get in a couple of last hours on Flying Point Beach.  She loved it and I was cracking up watching her run up and back as the tide came in and went out.   The weather, the light...all a perfect way to say goodbye to summer.

Six Years Ago Today

I'm sitting on my terrace with open views of Manhattan looking south.  No matter how many times I see the skyline the absence of the World Trade Center Towers is unreal.  Tonight, as every year since 2001, there are two beams of light rising up from Ground Zero to honor those lost and those who tried to help.

Six years ago today I work up at 5 AM and boarded a 7 AM flight for San Diego, via Salt Lake City, to attend a wireless conference.  At 9 AM I dialed in to a conference call from my seat on the plane.  The system said the call had ended.  Strange, but stuff happens.  Within minutes the announcement came that we were landing.  There was, we were told, an air traffic situation and all planes in the area were being asked to set down. 

"Stay on the plane."  "Get off the plane."  "Stay in the boarding area."  "We'll make announcements soon."

I got a call through to home and was getting the blow by blow on what was really happening.  At the same time the gate personnel were making an announcement.  The girl next to me was on the phone sobbing.  Then she collapsed into the arms of a fellow passenger.  Confusion.  Madness.  We finally convinced them to open the bar.  It was 9 AM in Omaha. 

The bar was silent.  Not a sound.  Five hours of total strangers transfixed by television.   I sat at the bar between a young girl en route home to Phoenix and a Pentagon employee.   I can't remember their faces.  All I can remember was what everyone else remembers.  The dust from the collapse of the first tower.  The second tower crumbling.  The smoke pouring out of the Pentagon building. 

Eventually I made my way to a Red Lion Inn.  At that point I think we all believed the planes would be flying within a day or so.  The magnitude of what had happened still hadn't sunk in.  When I woke up Wednesday morning, desperate to go home, I was determined to make my way east one way or the other.  Nine hours alone in a rental car to Chicago talking to friends and co-workers stranded all across the country.  On the outskirts of the city I met up with my boss and two colleagues for the drive to New York.  I was never so happy to see people in my life.  I'd been holding it in since the day before and when I saw them my knees went weak.  Another 22 hours driving to New York.  These were the longest couple of  days of my life.  But they attacked my city and I needed to be with my people.  My neighbors.  In my city.  I felt like I needed to wrap my arms around all of the people who had been there and tell them we would be all right.  Different, but we would get through it together.

As long as I live I will never forget the moment we got a look at the city that had been forever changed.  Coming across the George Washington Bridge and seeing a plume of smoke where the towers stood was like being punched in the stomach.  At the same time home was the only place I wanted to be.

I think I speak for many when I say that New Yorkers still stand together in grief and solidarity six years later.  We are more fragile than before.  We are stronger than before.  We are united in our love for this city.  It's going to take a hell of a lot more than some crackpot in a turban and the sheep-people who hang on his every word to beat us down!

Aha! Moment: Thoughtful Dieting

There are points in your life when you realize time is not infinite.  That if you're going to make changes the time is now.  Or never.

Four years ago I quit smoking.  Cold turkey.  There were compelling reasons.  The point is that cigarettes no longer control my every waking thought.  My life is not controlled by a little white stick that could kill me.  It amazes me that I can't take the same attitude toward food.  Inconceivable really that a bag of pretzels has control over me. 

This is not exactly a revelation.  I have spent much of my adult life trying to figure out how to lose weight.  No carbs.  Detox with a maple syrup/lemon juice/pepper cocktail, which I'm sure is yummy.  Pay $25 a month and keep a diary of what you eat.  Blah blah blah.  Whether the routine is reasonable or not, I will usually find a way to fall off the wagon.  Also not news.  The point is, if 1,000 people can concoct 1,000 different diets, and if I consider myself to be at least as smart as they are, why can't I figure this out?

Having spent a good long time thinking, and having tried almost every reasonable and unreasonable weight loss plan, I've put together a short list of guiding principles that can be applied to make any diet program successful.  Here are my Eleven Commandments...

1. The picture of the fat person on the refrigerator won't help.  My mind works like this..."Well, I have a LONG way to go before I look that bad!"  Also, a picture of a 20-something hardbody won't help.  I'm never going to be 20 again, so I tend to give myself permission to not delude myself.  And use that as an excuse to wander off course.  If you must use visual aids you can put up a picture of an age-appropriate fit person. 
2. Prepare!!!  Make a standing date with yourself on Sunday night and look at the week coming up.  Plan what you're going to eat.  At home plan what you're going to eat.  Make a list, shop the market and prepare the food as much in advance as possible.  For example, chop up ingredients for a salad and put each ingredient into a plastic bag in the fridge.  It keeps the vegetables fresh and it really is much easier to eat a salad when it's already prepared than thinking about coming home from work and chopping vegetables.    Take the same approach for for dining out.  One great thing about the internet is that many restaurant menus are online.  If you decide what you're going to eat in advance you don't even have to open the menu at the table.  No temptation.  Sounds simple, but it really works.
3. Water - Water - and more Water!  You've heard it a million times, but water can be tremendously helpful.  It fills you up.  Drink a bottle before a meal and see what happens.  It keeps you hydrated and your metabolism engaged.  And even if you think it won't do anything for your weight, you should see what it can do for your skin!
4. If you cheat on your diet it's not a free pass to inhale everything in the refrigerator because you can start over tomorrow.  It's a little like leaving New York City and driving to Montauk. You continue west when you meant to go east.  When you realize you're in Omaha it's a long way back to start.  Rule of Thumb:  If you just can't resist and you cheat, eat one and step away from the kitchen!  Walk out of the room!  Go for a walk!  Take a shower!  Anything!  But don't have another one!
5. THINK before you eat.  Take a deep breath and really think for two minutes.  I mean literally...stop and consider what you're about to consume.  Think about whether it's going to  really satisfy.  In my experience after I wander out of the diet yard I usually regret it instantly.  To steal a famous quote...a moment on the lips, forever on the hips.  Ammended...and you won't remember what you ate.
6. Hand in hand with this last point, Tune in to the foods that make you hungrier.  The ones that satisfy you for a minute and then leave your stomach growling.  Mostly carbs and sugary food for me.  One Tootsie Pop begets another and another and another.  But when I know what these food are I can develop a game plan.  Either I contract with myself to have only one, or I associate the food automatically with an alternative.  For example, if I want a Tootsie Pop I will buy one at the newsstand instead of a bag from Duane Reade.  If I want chocolate, I'll have a Skinny Cow Ice Cream Sandwich.  Equally satisfying.  No big regrets.
7. They're not going to stop making (insert food here) tomorrow.  If you pass on the cheeseburger you can be reasonably sure they'll still be serving it in a few months when you've achieved your goals.
8. It's not a sin to leave food on your plate, despite what you were told as a child.  Yes, there are people still starving in the 21st Century.  If you want to help them, donate money.  Sending them your leftover pasta will do absolutely no good.  At all.  Stop when you're full, or commit to eating half when you're at a restaurant that is known for extra large portions.  If you take a doggy bag you can use it for tomorrow's lunch.  Of you can share one main course with a friend for forced portion control.
9. Eating is not entertainment. Movies are entertainment.  Theater is entertainment.  For me sometimes shopping is entertainment.  But not every social occasion must involve food.  Get creative and avoid the "Meet me at The Palm" plan.
10. Do Something Physical Every Day.  I recently started working out three times a week with weights.  The other four days I either hop on a treadmill or take a long walk in the park.  It's really interesting.  It's so hard to get started, but once you do your body actually starts to crave the exercise.  If every day seems too daunting at first, commit to every other day.  I bet you're up to every day within no time.
11. And finally, commit to a target date and a realistic goal.  Whether you have a wedding or a reunion or are just planning a vacation, focus on the date and what you'd like to wear to the event.  If you have nothing coming up, plan something.  The reward system works as well now as it did when you were a kid.

I am going to lose 10 pounds.  I will accomplish this by December 15th.  A little more than 3 months.  Stay tuned...

UWS = Home

I've been essentially gone all summer.  Traveling for work took up most of June.  Weekends in July and August were spent at the "Crapshack" I rented in East Hampton.  So this week is the first time I've had to take care of things at home.  I wasn't looking forward to the lists, the organizing, the shlepping.  But it was long past time so today I started taking care of business.

I live on the Upper West Side of New York City.  I've lived alternately East and West over the years.  When I sold my apartment a few years ago a friend helped me find a fantastic rental on West 86th Street.  (Perfect size.  High floor.  Huge outdoor space.)  I wasn't so excited about the neighborhood.  I had been happy East.  Off Park Avenue.  I didn't truly fit in over there, but I faked it pretty well.  You know...pretended not to see people on the street.  Carried the obligatory designer bags...handbag and shopping.  Never walked.  Taxis for everything.  When in Rome...  But I was wow-ed by the new space so I trotted my not-quite-east-not-quite-west-self across the park once more.

I've lived in this building for 3-1/2 years now.  It occurred to me today, as I ran from the cleaner to the shoe repair to the grocery store, that this is truly as much a neighborhood as where I grew up.  I ran into people I haven't seen all summer.  Met up with some friends in the building.  Bumped into the guy from the pet supply store in the street.  Reunited my dog with her dog friends at Mariner's Gate.

Not a momentous day, but I came home feeling all warm and fuzzy.

Phase I: Stop the Madness

In the town of Nantucket you can buy bluefish pate, local produce and khakis that aren't from The Gap.  On Martha's Vineyard you can bead necklaces with semi-precious stones in a beachside shack and eat homemade ice cream.   Long Beach Island.  Rehoboth.  The Eastern Shore of Maryland.  All equally quaint and charming. 

In East Hampton you can buy a Gucci bag.  Buy Jimmy Choo shoes.  Buy Christopher Fischer cashmere.  Buy jewelry at London or Tiffany.  Buy shirts with giant embroidered ponies at Ralph Lauren.  Buy a Swarovski crystal studded dog leash at Canine Ranch.  Sensing a theme here?  Yep...not much like any other beach town I've ever seen either.

I walked around town tonight and I had an epiphany.  Listen, I love a great pair of stupid high, way sexy shoes.  And the odd ridiculously expensive handbag.  But the thrill lasts about as long as a crack high and then I'm back at the shopping thing.  I've made the decision to stop the madness. 

Change #1:  Get on a budget.

Regrouping in Paradise

I'm on the verge of making some changes.  Truth be told, change is not my best event.  I haven't done it all that well in the past.  Lots of anxiety and high drama usually go hand in hand with disrupting my status quo.  But...I'm determined to break the pattern and have "excused myself" from real life to enjoy two weeks at the beach.  East Hampton to be exact.  And trust me when I say there is  virtually no place on earth more removed from reality than this place.

I wonder what the colonists had in mind when they purchased land from the Montauk Indians in 1648.  My guess is they were thinking more about creating a renewable food supply...as in "let's grow corn here".  Not "Hey, this would be a great place for over-indulged city folk with too much time and money to come hang out."  Silly colonists.

East Hampton is like no place else.  For starters, the town beach...Main Beach...is on the list of best beaches in the country every year.  This year it ranked 7th.  Interestingly this east end of Long Island has two beaches on that list; the other is Coopers Beach in Southampton.  Main Beach has something for everyone.  Of particular interest to me are the snack bar and the restrooms.  This in itself makes for a best beach in my opinion. 

Beyond the beaches, East Hampton has it all...fabulous, excessive wealth (my rented house, which we've named "The Crapshack", is on the flight path to the private airfield), a struggling middle class and year round residents who live below the poverty line.  The people who live here have to drive 45 minutes to a Costco, but if they are so inclinced they can buy everything they need at Citarella on Main Street for a fee.  There are spectacular estates with elaborate gardens, and illegal day laborers lined up near the railroad station in the hopes of picking up a job.  Bentleys, BMWs and Bugatis sit in traffic alongside pickup trucks. 

Yes, this is exactly the spot for a reality check.