"O she doth teach the torches to burn bright" (Romeo & Juliet)

Twenty-five years ago today, Rhoda and I were married, so this is our "Silver Anniversary" (as you can surmise from the text color...well, it's as silver as I could make it). For the past 24 years I've been able to remember to get Rhoda a card; I find it mystifying that this very year fate has prevented me from doing that. Not that I want to make Hallmark any richer, it's just what we've been doing for each other on these occasions. However, since I've come home from the hospital, I've not been able to get out to buy a card, and so guilt-ridden as I am, I've decided to dedicate this blog to her as a way to express my love for her and for what she has meant to me since that day we were wed. I met Rhoda at a house party on New Year's Eve, 1978. I had recently returned from my year's sabbatical during which I fly-hopped all around the world engaging in my own version of Indiana Jones. However, it was a lonely ride, and back home again, I was unabashadly looking for someone to love, since I still had a lot of it left, unused.

When I sauntered into that house, well...there she was, a "Barby Doll" of a woman in a tight fitting brown cordoruy suit. To shorten a long story, we spent the evening together with our drinks, sharing stories too long and sordid to narrate in this venue. It also happened that we lived in the same development; she with her two children, a scroungy cat, and a nosy dog. Both of us divorced; she after 12 years, I after 30. Fast forward from 1978 to 1982 and I retired in June of that year and moved to Florida to be closer to my mother and sister. But in 1983 I went back north, married her, and fetched her to Florida kicking and screaming. I say that really, only metaphorically; but she was only a child of 45 in a 55-and-older community, and she was not a happy camper for a long, long while. But to my astonishment she remained with me...and still is. Because now she finds all the new residents are in her age group; and now I find that I'm the one at the bottom of the wine barrel with all the other decrepit versions of elderly judaism.

So, what has Rhoda meant to me? A whole new lifetime. I've been in awe of her without limitation. She is the most caring person I've ever known. There isn't anyone she knows or loves who is in need of a sympathetic ear that will lack her attention and support. Whatever my own needs are or have been, she has filled with unselfishness and devotion. I cannot imagine what my life would have been without her by my side. As Shakespeare said of Cleopatra, "...age cannot wither, nor custom stale her infinite variety." Do you think I love her? Haven't you been listening?

Happy Anniversary, my sweet love.

Rudeness is Rife

Why is it that so many people who work in so called "public service" positions are so arrogant and so rude? As far as my remembrance is concerned I don't think it used to be that way. Of course, lots of things these days didn't used to be that way. But, it just occurred to me while I was in the hospital, and while I'm in a restaurant, or at the doctor's office. I've been in several hospitals in my lifetime for one reason or another when nurses were solicitous, caring, always nearby if needed, and friendly. This time, I had a different nurse each day, which I thought was a lousy policy, and each one of them was indifferent to my pain and anxiety. Not only that, one nurse was Charles and one was Barry. I would have preferred a Charlene and a Sherry. Charles was stiff as a board and Barry was a zombie. My relationship with the staff at that hospital made me feel I was in a foreign country. No one spoke English to me even if they knew the language. However, when I spoke English to any of the nurses or aides, it was still as if we were in Swaziland or Montezuma. I never got what I wanted.

Last week I went to my internist's office for an ultra sound of my abdomen because I was getting severe pains every time I took a breath. The nurse called me out of the waiting room and then proceeded to walk rapidly ahead of me to the room without even a gentle hello, how are you. When I walked in, her back was turned to me and she was gazing at a monitor. When she told me to get onto the table, she didn't bother to offer a hand. When she had finished, she said I should get off the table and leave the room, and she started to walk out ahead of me, also not offering to help me off. I said to her "Don't rush me. And I don't like the way you talk to me. I'm not the village idiot." (She didn't need to know the truth). But the bottom line is that people who have chosen jobs that require them to deal with people of all walks of life need to have better "bedside manners". I read a letter to the editor in the paper today complaining about rude stewardesses on the airlines. I believe people who don't like their jobs should seek employment elsewhere. With my expectations of service people, I expect a little civility.

I'm still getting comments about my guest blogger, Mike, who helped me out by writing a blog so my readers wouldn't give up on me while I was hospitalized. Well, one comment today was, "He must be a little weird". I took that as a poor insight...Mike is a lot weird, and that's why we get along so well. I'm somewhat jealous of him because I'm just a teenchy bit weird, while he's the Tiger Woods of Weirdness.

Incidentally, I changed the link to my books just to the right of the blog. If you click on the title of the book, it should take you to the website which lists all the companies that are selling the book, along with the price. It wouldn't hurt you to buy one.

"If they were but a week married, they would talk themselves mad." (Much Ado About Nothing)

Today is Barbara and Joel's 29th Anniversary. They were married in Temple Emanuel in East Meadow on this day in 1979. I had only known Rhoda for less than two years, yet she agreed to help make the wedding for those two lovebirds. It would be difficult for the Vlasachs, who lived in Pennsylvania to make the wedding because the "kids" wanted to marry in East Meadow. I first met Barbara in Australia during my world tour...and it was in January. She and Joel had graduated college and went to Australia to teach...for some long forgotten reason. She worked in Sydney and he in Tenterfield. My understanding was that she was terrified before meeting me, but after we met, I set her mind at ease that I wasn't Shrek, the ogre. Barbara was beautiful and engaging and I thought to myself that she was a "keeper". I don't know when they decided to marry, but Joel thought the idea was best if Barbara converted to Judaism...which eventually, she did. And so the way was cleared for the union. I don't believe that Barbara's conversion sat well with her family, but that is certainly understandable. When Barbara's late father sat in the Temple, he looked as though he felt he was in the Devil's hideaway. For in his eyes, as a Christian, the only pathway to heaven and salvation was through Jesus. But, of course, that's a religious belief, not a fact.

When Barbara and Joel were married, they were very poor. I don't believe they are poor any longer. Joel retired from the CIA after 20 years, and now is successful in private industry. Barbara has been teaching in Virginia now for many years. Gratefully, they provided me with two brilliant grandchildren, Hannah and Adam...both of whom are embarked on successful careers after college. Our relationship with Barbara and Joel is a memorable one ever since Rhoda and I spent our honeymoon with them while he was stationed in England in order to spy on the Queen. Adam was just a baby then. But our honeymoon was exciting and enjoyable, especially when we took a motor tour in their car around England. Another, not so enjoyable occasion occurred during their visit to us in Florida while Hannah was still a baby. It was while we were in a Chinese restaurant that the waiter put the pot of hot tea too near Hannah and reaching over, she spilled it on herself. We rushed her off to the hospital and Rhoda held and comforted her while waiting for the doctor in ER. Happy to say that Hannah is OK now, but that event was scary to say the least.

During the early years of their marriage, whenever we four got together, we spent many hours just talking and shooting the breeze about any topic. We got into what we later called "sessions" which meant that we kept talking right past midnight. It was quite enjoyable and we got to know each other. Barbara and I used to go out running miles and miles together. I believe she still runs. She used to call us regularly, like a good daughter-in-law should, and spent hours on the phone with Rhoda. Well, we rarely hear from her anymore, and that puzzles us because we don't remember doing anything that would alter our relationship. But now they are in that big house in Virginia; the "kids" have left the nest; and after 29 years they have to face each other again. Happy Anniversary to the loving couple. (I only gave them twelve years.)

"By medicine, life may be prolong'd, yet death will seize the doctor too." (Cymbeline)

Yesterday was a very uneventful Fathers Day. We had plans to go to the Isle Casino, gamble a bit and then have dinner at their buffet. However, I just wasn't up to it. I had about zero energy for such a venture, and if I were not feeling well, it would not have been much fun. Besides Rhoda insisted, that if we were to go, I would have to use a walker or my scooter, and I simply wasn't enthusiastic about that possibility. I can't get used to the idea that I can't walk without a mechanical aid. Me? A two time marathoner? A winner of several age group 5K and 10K races? A soccer and track coach needing mechanical aid to get from Plan A to Plan B? Give me a break. So, instead of the Isle we thought about going to a movie, but when the time came to leave, we both backed out. Instead, we watched the Marlin game, the Euro soccer matches and the U.S. Open. Every one very entertaining. We stayed at home for a pasta dinner. In a way it was good to be home yesterday, because I got phone calls from all the kids and the extended kids. I would have enjoyed hearing from any grandkid, but that didn't happen. Perhaps they lost my phone number.

This morning I was thrust out of my comfortable bed when Rhoda and the home nurse broke into the bedroom. I was not too thrilled with that bit of action. I told them I'd meet them in the kitchen. So, I put on a pair of shorts and went into the kitchen where the nurse re-bandaged a wound on my left leg, took my blood pressure, etc. etc. and promised to return tomorrow. Also, we expect the physical therapist to be here later this afternoon. She'll give me exercises sitting down (the kind I like) and some standing up while holding on to the kitchen sink. Tough, demanding, and painful exercises like lifting one leg up and putting it down, and the doing the same with the other leg. Ten times each. I really aced that one. The next anti-aerobic trick was to hold on to the sink, then raise up on my toes and then back down again. Upsy-downsy--ten times. How exhausting. Now I have a slight idea of what Schwarzenegger goes through. And tomorrow is Tuesday--I think?