Happy New Year...

...from my family to yours.

Man's Best Friend

Just in time for the holidays...



Merry Christmas to all who made it home.

How To Celebrate Your 60th

Some people get face lifts.  Some throw themselves a big party.  Some take their trip of a lifetime.  Some people review their life and friends and ponder the future.  I've just done everything but the face lift.

I'm talking about "turning"; aging, having another birthday; getting old past the middle age mark.  Yes, I mean the big Six OH.  

Five of my friends and I celebrated our 60th birthdays in New Orleans this past week.  We went without our spouses or significant others because that's how we grew up, single and together, some of us since elementary school, all of us since junior high.

In many ways, it was as though no time had passed.  We share so much history, the bulk of it in our youth.  But we've stayed friends from a distance.

Our lives continue to intersect because we take the time to stay in touch.  It's not always perfect.  There has been anger and hurt feelings and sniping along the way, not unlike this trip.  However, what would life be without challenges?

We are beset by issues of varying degrees, some of us drink waaay too much, some have real physical  debilitation, some of us need to dial down the cranky meter more effectively but all of us are comparatively healthy.  Four days in New Orleans carousing, eating and walking will let you know real fast what kind of shape you are in.

I wish I could tell you we had an easy time together, that everyone got along.  Some of us really did our best to go with the flow.  But, by sixty, you are set in your ways and those of us less willing to bend made it tough on the rest.

I can say there was one very surprising revelation, a deep dark secret revealed.  There were minor admittances of indiscretions and stupid behavior as well.  But I viewed it as reaching out for acceptance, approval, forgiveness none of which were offered by one hundred per cent of the group.  Some of us have become more understanding with the years, some less so.

We are a mixed bag facing the rest of our lives.  I look forward to my future but I can't pretend not to mourn my past.  We were young, energetic and extremely bonded.  

And I miss that.

Notes on a Former Lover

Last night I received an email from a guy I dated in my late twenties.  We renewed our friendship last year when  I wrote him after seeing his address in a mass email to members of our media circle about a well liked friend who died prematurely.  This guy was, as Meg Ryan put it in "When Harry Met Sally", my transition guy; the first man I became attached to after my separation and divorce from my husband.  At the time, he was a national radio rep, running the LA office of a prominent national firm.  Basically, these guys represented radio stations throughout the US, calling on LA agencies for the placement of  national business.  I was a national media buyer, working in-house for the largest photo finishing company in the U.S.  I purchased radio & newspaper advertising in 40 out of 80 markets.

His interest became evident when he heard I was separated.  He approached my boss to see if it was appropriate to ask me out.  They had a good relationship;  she liked him and she liked me so she was all for it.  I'd had dinner with him many times on a business level and we got along great.  Dating was about to change the whole picture.  First of all, he invited me to accompany him to Kyoto.  His San Diego station had an annual client trip to which he was always invited with a "guest" and he invited me.  It was a week long excursion.  We'd never even kissed.  I called my mother and asked her what to do.

 "Go."  she said.

But my father got into the act.  He had been a national rep too.  He'd had his own business for thirty plus years before retiring.  He was bat shit.  The phrases "Not proper" and "conflict of interest" were applied liberally.

All my co-workers wanted me to go.  It was the trip of a life time and I was separated and my husband, soon-to-be-ex, was on the east coast.

"Go!" they urged.

I didn't go.  I couldn't reconcile any of it:  the conflict, the feelings I had for my husband and the fear I felt about being with the new guy.  Turns out, I'd have had my own rooms and needn't have worried but I was too inexperienced to ask.  He was very disappointed but when he returned we began to date and years later I realized I might as well have made the trip because, in the eyes of his competitors, I did compromise myself by dating him.  He always claimed I was much harder on him when it came to negotiations than I was on his competition and he was right.  But only he and I knew that.  It was doomed from the beginning but we became very good friends.

So last night he dropped me a note and it was sweet. He was bringing me up to date on his grand kids, his life.  He is still single having married and divorced twice, once before I'd met him and once after.  He ended the email referring to himself as an "elderly gentleman".    He just turned 67 which kinda blows me away as I remember his 40th and 50th birthdays.  We lost touch after that.

As my transition guy, we were better friends than anything else.  He was somewhat of a mentor, usually a good sounding board and very helpful through much of my career.  I was never in love.  I just had a serious crush.

What are the ramifications of looking up an old love?  Are they sweet?  bittersweet?  sad?  Do we only want to see the ones that ended not too badly?   How many of us know where our ex loves are?  How many of us care?  Food for thought.

Ch Ch Cha Changes

Hosta III by Laura Trevey

As most of you know by now, my husband and I put our house on the market 10/25/09, sold it 10/26/09, closed on it 12/04/09 and were already moved in to my MIL's farm house.  After a hasty preparation for Christmas, our older son's visit home and our younger son's return from Europe, we are now preparing for the new decade with a whole lotta unknowns ahead.

If last night is any indication of what to expect, it will be a happy one.  We celebrated the coming of the new year with close friends at an elegant wine bistro, a four course meal paired with wines, a fireworks display at the park across the street and snowflakes the size of small ornaments, fluffy and falling all around us.  There was a glow in the village from the blue moon hiding behind the clouds, the lamp lights decorated with red velvet beribboned wreaths and the streets were full of happy visitors and locals wearing 2010 tiaras and hats, blowing little horns and laughing.  Everyone seemed to be in good moods.  The sense of anticipation was palpable.  Many are thrilled to see the old decade depart.

My husband and I both felt it was the best New Year's eve of our adult lives.  He described it as "magical".  We were with friends, we had wonderful food, beautiful weather, gaiety and love.  We closed the night out in our favorite bar owned by friends, drinking champagne and chatting about skiing, family and just plain stuff.

We are blessed and we know it.  So many are not.  But I choose to be selfish today and share my happiness.  Tomorrow I will think again of those less fortunate and my contributions to changing the world.

All the Best

Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, Happy Kwanzaa and all the best to all of you.  Thank you for a wonderful year of writing, responding and support.

Friends Indeed Part 2

My husband wrote this to include in all the thank you notes we will now write.

"Friends in need" may be "friends indeed" but friends in a time of need are truly the best friends. My sincere thanks, to one and all, for your kind thoughts and gentle words.

My Father's Service:

Given his lifelong lack of religiosity, we decided to celebrate my father's passing into the Great Beyond with a "Bon Voyage" party, rather than through a more traditional service. Monday night, thirty or so people gathered in remembrance. We ate good food, drank expensive booze, and thumbed through photos and memories (mostly true) from back in the day. The life and times of my father were well represented. When it came time to pop the corks on the champagne and offer a toast to the man and his times, his presence was palpable.

My father's favorite author was Oscar Wilde. As part of Monday's sendoff, I spent some time gathering quotes from the author that seemed to best represent his life view. I hope that those of you who knew him well concur with my choices.


It is absurd to divide people into good and bad. People are either charming or tedious.


Life is far too important a thing ever to talk seriously about.


I can resist anything but temptation.


Children begin by loving their parents; as they grow older they judge them; sometimes they forgive them.


I like persons better than principles, and I like persons with no principles better than anything else in the world.


I love acting. It is so much more real than life.


Nowadays most people die of a sort of creeping common sense, and discover when it is too late that the only things one never regrets are one's mistakes.


Moderation is a fatal thing. Nothing succeeds like excess.


The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself.


To get back my youth I would do anything in the world, except take exercise, get up early, or be respectable.


I think that God in creating man somewhat overestimated his ability.


We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.


A fond d'adieu, avec un bon voyage et plein de bonne fois papa.
(I don't think resting in peace is in the cards).

Friends Indeed

Monday night, we threw a celebration of my father in law's life at our home. While not a lot of the people who came knew him well, he had met many over the years as he was always a presence at our parties. So, when my husband published a beautiful obit which ended with an open invitation to our home, he underestimated the response. He expected 10-15 people and I just looked at him and said, "You don't know our friends."

About thirty of our closest friends came, bringing great food and lots of love. I had set the table with my mother's china and silverware; we had a full bar serving everything in crystal glasses. We had a huge spread, from appetizers to several
desserts. The flowers we'd received were placed around the living room and my husband set up the CD player with Frank Sinatra, Billie Holliday, Ella Fitzgerald and Count Basie, his father's favorites.

The music played, the food was plentiful, the drinks flowed. Our minister came by, my husband's tennis partner, my in law's neighbors, and my son's friends. Everyone made a contribution by their presence and their gifts. When the time was right, my husband served champagne to all and called for a toast. It was short and sweet as he told everyone this was his father's 85th birthday, how much their being there meant to us, and how much his dad would have enjoyed the party. It was wonderful.

I had been out to dinner the night before with a few of these friends and talk of funerals, death and wakes was the topic. One of the "girls" told a story about a recent wake she'd attended at the very elegant restaurant where we were eating. The daughter of the woman who died had ordered all her mother's favorite food, chief of which were grilled cheese sandwiches and macaroni and cheese. Everyone started talking about what food they'd want at their own wake and one person said, "I think we should have the wake before we die so we can enjoy it." We laughed like hell at the concept.

It's so good to have friends.

Watercolor by Laura Trevey

Good Friends

Last March, my girlfriend & husband threw a party. The weather outside was frightful but about 60 people drove to her home in the Maine countryside to enjoy a lively and "informal Tex Mex" banquet. She comes from a restaurant family and is a very good cook. She prepared empanadas made with slow roasted pulled pork, refried beans, hot hot chili, corn bread, several kinds of salads, fresh fruit & cheese, enchiladas, guacamole, roasted asparagus, taquitos; it was grand. I prepared a double layered lemon cheesecake with lemon curd topping. Someone else made a Mexican chocolate & cinnamon cake with milk frosting. There was a slushy machine churning out margaritas. You could just walk up, pull the lever and "that frozen concoction" came pouring out.

These photos are from the party. Left is the party giver and artist, Joelle. In the middle is our Swiss friend, Ladina, an amazing skier and athlete. I'm on the right. We girls met when our sons were in third grade. Between the baseball, football, soccer and more, we found ourselves car pooling, cooking for team dinners, planning picnics and time for the families to share with one another. We incorporated our husbands which forever cemented our relationships. Over the past twelve years we have exercised, partied, cooked, played, cried, clung to one another and laughed our asses off over anything we can. In the photo above, we are discussing the benefits vs the defects of high heels while holding Joelle's 4" heels which she has now taken off because her feet hurt.

I'm now 57. Ladina is 51, I think. Joelle is 40. Our friendship is based on a mutual love of the same things and the enjoyment and respect we have for one another. Raising our kids has been easier because we share our frustrations and fear, give good advice when we're asked and sympathise with one another. Our parenting skills are in synch. One night, Joelle and I ferreted out the location of an illegal kid drinking party, drove there, walked in the front door, big as life, pointed to a group of sullen looking boys and said,

"You, You, You...GET IN THE CAR!"

Out came our three boys. I think they were freshmen in high school. Boy, were they embarrassed. My son said it took two years to live that down, heh heh.

Every time we share a meal, we touch glasses and say,

"Here's to us! Here's to good friends."

Friday Nights, Part 2

In May 2008, I wrote a post about Friday night get-togethers with my girlfriends, a weekly occurrence taking place during my twenties. It is a special memory because of the camaraderie and support these Friday nights engendered. These were therapeutic social gatherings arranged around wine, women & food. We listened to each other's stories, gave opinions, advice, counsel and were generally able to solve much with a great deal of laughter and gravitas combined. It was heaven.

One of the questions I ask in the post is "Why don't I re-establish Friday nights?" I would love to but am not so sure it would fly...at least where I now live. I question how forthcoming most of us are in our middle years. I know many of you are very forthcoming and yet... In those days, everyone blabbed about everything going on in their lives: sex, partners, job issues, family issues, sex. Not so sure that kind of honesty would be as easy now. We have so many to whom we feel obligated to protect.

For many of us, blogging is our Friday night opportunity to tell stories, give opinions and help one another. And it is not limited to women only. I want male readers to weigh in with their perspective. I find blogging an amazing way to reach out. It's cathartic. I'm searching for a way to make it even more interactive and instructive.

All ideas are welcome.

The Ambivalence of Aging

My best friend and I just made a commitment to take some time over this three day weekend to talk about how we are dealing with aging. She's on the West Coast and I'm in New England so we're going to plan a call.

This came from an idea my therapist put forth that I need to get my feelings about the loss of my looks and my figure and my youth out on the table. He feels I bury them and do not give them credence. He asked if I have someone with whom I could discuss them and I said "Only my husband but he really gets tired of hearing about it." He asked about my girlfriends in New England. I replied they are all younger than I and at different stages in their lives. The best situation for me would be to have a get together with my oldest friends as we are all very close in age.

At first I was resistant to this idea. I said I felt I should be "able to handle it." He looked amused and asked if I felt I should be "above it all" and I said "Yes." I find it humiliating to be so hung up on my looks. It's so shallow. Never mind I was born and raised in Los Angeles, the capital of superficial. But he was very insistent that I am not alone and by talking about it with others I will find we all have similar feelings of loss and sadness and confusion, etc. I think he likens it to a grieving process.

So, this morning I emailed my best friend and mentioned the discussion with him just to see what she'd say. She has always been a pragmatic person and I expected some kind of sage response. Instead she replied,

"I think I need a chat about all this too. It is very hard...losing your looks, losing your body, your health. When shall we chat?"

Wow! Not only was I surprized but I feel expectant, that is, looking forward to it.

I'll keep you posted.

Through Their Eyes

We have just spent an incredible week with a pair of friends we've known since high school. They flew from the warmth of Southern Cal to the frigid cold of New Hampshire to visit. Actually, they lucked out. The weather, hitherto in the single digits, had hit the high twenties/low thirties by the time they arrived and stayed that way their entire visit. My friend from high school is an avid skiier, as is my husband. I no longer ski because I need a knee replacement and his wife doesn't either. Soooo, the menfolk went skiing almost every day and we shopped, read our books, went out to eat, etc. Every night we'd have bottles of nice wine and laugh and feel like we did when we were sixteen, except for our aches and pains. The wine did much to kill the aches and pains however. The most interesting part of their trip came when we'd take a drive and listen to their comments about our part of the world. They loved the cozy quaint towns, the "charming" architecture, the unspoiled beauty of the White Mountains, the lovely old churches, the cool shoppes, etc. My husband and I saw our own world through our friends and it was a, pardon the pun, eye-opener.

We all take for granted the things we have and the beauty we see when we see it every day. I remember when I was young, single and living in San Diego near Mission Bay, I would drive to work each morning along the water and think "I am the luckiest person in the world!" I remember thinking that when I lived in Richmond, Va. and would travel to D.C. on business and pass all the great monuments, federal buildings, memorials, etc. I remember thinking that when my children were small. I remember thinking that when I moved here. I remember telling myself I would never take it for granted. But I do.

I woke up this morning and the sun was shining on the snow and the temperature, though frigid, seemed less daunting and I felt energy I hadn't felt in a long while. I think the visit my friends paid us did that for me. And, boy, am I grateful.

My Best Friends

These are six of my girlfriends. With one exception, we all went to high school together. We were friends when this photo was taken almost twenty years ago and we're friends today. The basis of our enduring friendships are probably more complicated than I can explain but I guess we just worked at it. Long term friendships are a combination of loyalty, love, caring, empathy and being there for the other person whenever possible. At least, those are the traits I most admire in a friend.

My husband can have his dogs, I'll take my girlfriends!

High School Reunion: Prelude

I can't believe it but I'm going home for a 40th high school reunion. It sounds so old it's frightening. I had been looking forward to it for a while. Many of my friends wanted to go and, as I planned to go home anyway, I thought it would be great. As the date grows ever near, however, many of my friends are changing their minds. Now I find myself going with my one girlfriend from elementary school, who is also flying to the left coast from the right. We're spending $110 for the event, $140 for the room (I know, cheap for a Marriot...but STILL) and who knows what for a flattering dress and foundation garment that will suck in all the places that need to be girdled. That's alot of places.

My husband is encouraging. "Go!" he says. "You always have a good time."

I hope so. It hardly seems worth it. I mean, the people I thought I'd be hanging out with aren't going, except for a handful. And the memory of the last one I attended, the 25th, is that I had to squint at every name tag to figure out who the hell I was talking to. It seemed rude but also embarrasssing.

Well, I will notate my trip and it should be memorable. I have 10 days of visitng friends and family in California before the fated affair. We shall see.

One thing I should note, now that only a few of my closest friends are going, I no longer feel that terrible need to wear a dynamite dress, create an un-wiltable hair style, and wear makeup that won't melt. I am wearing false eyelashes. Love 'em and they are back in vogue. Other than that, eh!

Towanda

Last night, while having dinner with close friends and after too much to drink, I made the remark to my girlfriend that I was "older, smarter and had more on my hips." Of course, I was intentionally misquoting Evelyn Couch in "Fried Green Tomatoes". My friend is a good deal younger than I and she was worrying about the swelling in the fingers of her painting hand. She's an artist. I was telling her to go see a doc instead of self-diagnosing. She wasn't listening and that's when I made the remark.

When I think on that scene in the movie, the "Towanda" scene, I think of women empowering themselves and what a struggle it has been. I think of what it took for my mother to pay off her second husband's debts after he'd cheated on her then ran his restaurant business into the ground. I think of my grandmother and her four husbands, three of whom she supported. I think of my best friend's mother, a nurse, who went back to college, while we were in high school, to get her masters degree, then on to a doctorate while still in her forties, raising four kids in the process. I think of Hillary Clinton running for President. What an amazing possibility that was. She could have made it. I really wanted to see her win; to see a woman with the ultimate power.

My girlfriend did not pick up on the quote. She's younger and faster for sure. And she's an empowered woman. She's raising four children, helping her husband run their business and promoting her art work through shows, mailings and a web site. She is the product of a strong matriarch. Her mother had six daughters. She raised them practically single-handed while starting and building a restaurant business. All the daughters are hard-working and successful.

What do we all have in common? A strong mother figure, a mentor, someone to set the example. We share, we trade secrets, we provide for the next generation. For those who don't know how, we need to teach, shelter and mentor.

Friday Nights

When I was in my late twenties, newly divorced and on my own again, I worked in the Fotomat marketing department in San Diego. It was the most fun job I ever had in my favorite city in the U.S. Everyone in marketing (except our two bosses) was a twenty-something. Most were single or divorced; all of us were party animals. My favorite night of the week was Friday. My girlfriends and I would get together at someone's house, drink wine to discuss our issues: man issues, work issues, life issues. By unspoken consent, the rest would listen, discuss, then give advice. It was therapy. It was better than therapy! I know. I've seen my share of therapists over the years.

No matter the issue, we had support. If one of the women was in a bad relationship, we'd counsel her out of it. If someone had self-esteem issues, we'd build her up. If someone needed to talk frankly to the boss who was hitting on her, we'd role play it out. Oh yes. It was therapeutic and it worked.

I have alot of friends and I've made alot of friends over the years. But I've never enjoyed the working rapport I experienced during those still youthful enough-to -make-serious-mistakes days. Friends who care are the most valuable of all. They can save your job, your relationship, even your life.

Why don't I re-establish Friday nights with my current friends? We all have issues that need dealing with! Well, I guess everyone is just too busy to commit. On occasion, we do have group discussions that include our husbands. But it's not the same. I love the camaraderie women have. We can and do discuss anything and everything. Nothing is sacred. Men aren't like that. They have verboten topics like income, sexual prowess or intimacy (or lack thereof),depression, whether or not they are working,stuff like that. They simply hate it when their wives, girlfriends, significant others discuss these topics. You can't be honest with each other when men are around!

However, I do think, as time goes on, these valuable get-togethers will re-convene. Women need each other. They need the nurturing, the insight, the comfort, the honesty...the Friday nights.