HEAR YE! HEAR YE! THE FOLLOWING IS AN IMPORTANT PUBLIC ANNOUNCEMENT: “I’m Not Talking.” This will come as a shock to those who know me, to say the least, and may raise the related question: Will you stop blogging too? Hell, no. I’ll blog away blithely (blithely blog away?) in order to clarify that initial comment. And I do have some serious ”’splainin”...

  I used to think about Covid the way Woody Allen did about death: I thought they’d make an exception in my case.Well, I don’t have any medical data on the Woodman, but I know what happened to me: No exception was made. I got Covid.Yes, folks, I was visited by the whole megillah: sore throat, runny nose, headache, and oh, you know. My brother called on Facetime...

As in: I am obsessed with it these days. Aren’t you? Some of you may want to stop reading after I tell you that no, I haven’t actually gained the standard Covid 15.  I get it. Good bye and good luck. But for those of you who stick around, let me tell you that I am constantly aware of what to eat, when to eat it, how to get it, how to prepare it, and how to...

I had a Zoom session the other day, a phrase the likes of me has never uttered until this surreal situation took over our lives and turned everything on its head. But you know that. What I wanted to tell you concerns a comment made by one of the participants in that Zoom session, sponsored by a group I belong to for retired professionals, to the effect that she’s...

Are you sick of hanging around the house during this pandemic looking like, as my mother used to say, the Wreck of the Hesperus? And no, I never knew what that meant, but I got the gist: I was a mess. As I have been recently, during these daunting days of isolation.  Many of my clothes require dry cleaning (must remedy that in the future), and many cleaners are...

Who says I can’t clean my apartment? Who says that my attempts at housekeeping are doomed to failure? Who says that my domestic adventures are closer to I Love Lucy than The Donna Reed Show ? Well, me, for one. And my cleaning lady, for another. Who happens to be—by one of those coincidences Freud tells us don’t exist—named Lucy. She is now self-isolating in...

Attention Bitter Blogees: These are . . . interesting times. This post from a guest blogger surely reflects the experiences of many. A few weeks of self isolation are beginning to bring about unintended consequences. This morning in my junk mailbox there was an offer from Neiman Marcus literally bringing the realities home. NM asked if I would like to avail myself...

These are strange times. To wit: How the hell could a show as bleak as The Handmaid’s Tale actually improve my outlook on life in this time of global pandemic and economic meltdown? I had no idea. For months, years even, my brother the cinematographer has been telling me to watch The Handmaid’s Tale. But would I listen? Of course not. I already was  watching too...