Crew-sing

The voiceover features a young hipster woman, full contralto. (I'm sure the talent agents have assigned her voice to a "type.") The ad is for the Cadillac XT6, an SUV that seats six, costs over $52K and gets 25 highway miles to the gallon (18 city).

"Everyone has a crew," she croons. "A stone-cold, never-blink, walk-in-slow-motion crew. Three rows built for everyone. Leave no one behind."

Some kind of rap music is playing in the background, while "crews" of modern hipsters, dressed to the nines and decked out in lots of bling, settle themselves in and toodle around the city on their glamorous excursions to places I will never be.

Well, okay, I just got left behind.

Ya, I get it, I'm not their audience. But I get a little torked when ads say "everyone." Because clearly their "everyone" is the top 10% of the population. The young folks I know are paying off student loans and getting by. The people closer to my age group are wondering if they will ever be able to retire comfortably.

As to having a crew, no.

Although, come to think of it, I do have five siblings. So I suppose you could say we make up a "crew." "Stone cold"? Well, it is winter in this neck of the woods. "Never blink" might be tricky. But the "walk-in-slow-motion" thing? Sure, we can do that, easy-peasy.

Wait, let me set my mind picture here. If I replace "Big Blue," our 1966 Chevy Impala station wagon, with a Cadillac SUV, I can envision the six of us cruising along. Paul and I will whine because, as usual, we will not get window seats. One of us will get queasy, then the person in the passenger seat will hand that person a small garbage bag and tell the rest of us to open the windows and not think about it, which won't work, and soon we'll all be queasy.

No need to leave anyone behind!

Finding Keepers

As is his wont, Mr. Ginley picked up a book at random at the library last week. He mentioned that I might like to read it.

I did and was taken with both the stories in it and the theme.

Entitled, What We Keep, the book was penned by Naomi Wax and Bill Shapiro (no relation to Harry, as far as I know).

The idea was to collect 150 stories from random people, famous and not, of an object that is special to them, and why.

This got me thinking about all of the stuff I've accumulated over the years, and  what, among the flotsam and jetsam, has special meaning to me.

There are things that belonged to my parents, the letters my mom sent me when I lived in Virginia and hand-made cards from Mr. Ginley and Joe.

But I wanted to dig a little deeper and a little farther back. And that's when I landed on the toys of my early childhood.

The magnetic board with the alphabet letters. My dolls and stuffed animals. The child-sized wooden rocking chair. The toy piano with the one key that stuck and the Casper the Friendly Ghost plastic guitar -- alas, my only forays into music (and both of which are long gone, so unable to participate in this exercise).

I landed on two objects that held a special place in my heart.

First, the hobby horse that I rode and rode and rode, as far as my imagination would take me. It doesn't look like much now, but boy howdy, I thought it was something back in the day. Now the reins are frayed and the horse's head wobbles atop the stick. But it still makes me smile.

As does the Music Box Sweeper. Someone stepped on it (probably me) and dented the top. But I could still help my mom sweep up. It has a "Genuine Swiss Music Box" inside that plays, "This is the way we (fill in the task) so early in the morning."

As I recall, my mom had a hard time getting me to understand it was a toy and that she still had to sweep the floor for real.

One of the things I find endearing about my sweeper is it depicts both boys and girls doing the various tasks (although, admittedly, there are more girls than boys).

Maybe I'm just weird, but I love hearing stories about the things that people keep.

So if you've got a story, please spill.

Or, at the very least, take a minute or two to think about what you've chosen to hold dear.

Who Needs Pants?

The opening shot was an elderly woman in a knee-length fur coat, sashaying along the streets of New York, her birdlike legs clad only in black tights. A hat crowned her grey hair, a jaunty scarf tied around her neck. Perched on her face were ginormous eyeglasses.

As she strolled along the sidewalks, adoring fans came up and told her how much they loved her. One man asked for a selfie with her.

So, who was the object of all this attention? Broadway actress Elaine Stritch.

The documentary was entitled Shoot Me, and was filmed in 2013, a year before Stritch passed away.

I love documentaries that explore the lives of people who are not in my stratosphere. And that is certainly the case with Ms. Stritch.

What I discovered about her was that she had a ton of talent and enjoyed a career that spanned 88+ years.

She told a story about dating President Kennedy before he became Commander in Chief. It was a brief period -- only two dates. On the second date, she invited him up for a night cap. His response was something to the effect of, if she was going to play records and serve him eggs and nothing else, he was not interested.

He didn't come up.

Noel Coward, disparaging a play Stritch was in (but recognizing her talent), offered her a part in his new musical, Sail Away. Stritch took on the role of leading lady and was nominated for a Tony for her performance. Her career took off.

Over the course of her lifetime, Stritch eventually won a Tony, along with several Emmy Awards.

She had a love affair with Ben Gazarra. She had a thing for Rock Hudson. And she asserted Kirk Douglas professed his love for her, although she did not return his affections.

In 1973, Stritch married the love of her life, Actor John Bay. The pair enjoyed wedded bliss until Bay's tragic death from brain cancer in 1982. She never married again.

Stritch was very candid about her alcoholism, which worsened after the death of her husband. She got it under control, but not before it contributed to the onset of diabetes, which plagued her for the rest of her life.

She was candid (and that's quite the understatement) about everything. In the documentary, she was coming up on the end of her life, and she vacillated between being at peace with the inevitable and being terrified.

Her residence in New York was the Carlyle Hotel. She also lived for a time at the Savoy in London.

Stritch played Alec Baldwin's mother in 30 Rock. She was buds with James Gandolfini. And she did a one-woman show called Elaine Stritch at Liberty.

The documentary was fascinating. Now I'm ready to read the book.

Let's hear it for the ladies who lunch...everybody rise...

Should Old Acquaintance Be Forgot?

I've never been one for New Year's resolutions. To me, January 1st is just another day.*

Although, I must say, I was mighty glad to give 2019 the boot.

It's been challenging to live in the moment and plan for an uncertain future at the same time.

But it has had its rewards.

• I've spent a lot of time with Mr. Ginley. We've walked miles and miles of park trails, discovering new places and revisiting tried-and-true paths.

• Joe and I have continued our weekly breakfasts. I'm so proud of my kid, and he remains one of my favorite people. In August, he'll bring Jill into the fold. I hope she's ready for us!

• The opportunity to regularly meet with my friend, Chris, has been a godsend. I realize just how much I've missed seeing her every day.

• I took Excel classes at the library. And some (free) online courses to beef up my skills.

• A big blessing came in the form of a freelance copywriting job. So far, I've created 60+ pages of content. From researching and writing, I've honed my skills and learned a ton about my subjects. I really do love to write.

• How do you convert films to DVD? I learned from Axel.

• Who knew designing websites was so easy? I managed to create three of them. Programs like Wix made it a breeze.

• Mr. and I discovered all the things we can live without. We haven't missed the cable much. Our local libraries have plenty of DVDs, and we've watched many classics. (I've even managed to sit through some westerns.) And we've done a lot more reading. As an added benefit, our electric bill has gone down.

• Cooking has become less of chore, especially when I remind myself how much we save by not eating out several times a week.

• Our resident feline has enjoyed having me around. Maggie and Mr. Ginley fight like cats and dads, and I've had to intervene on many occasions. "Put her down, she doesn't like to play 'Tick Tock Kitty Clock.'" Every time I sit down, Maggie plants herself on my lap. Or on my face. (She doesn't quite get the concept of my needing to breathe.)

Hopefully, 2020 will be a more prosperous year for all of us.

Although, until I wrote this, I hadn't realized what an amazing year 2019 had actually been.

*Except for the Rose Bowl. Mr. Ginley and I watched The Game at a local bar and had a nog of ale.