Catching Up

Am I the only one who thinks the leaves have stayed on the trees longer this year? Maybe it’s the relatively warm autumn? Maybe, it’s because there have been few windy rain storms, like the one the other night? Maybe it’s global warming? Whatever, it seems the foliage has stayed with us deeper into this season than in years’ past.

By the way, our Winter King Hawthorn tree held onto a few leaves through Finley Hawthorne Forseter’s first birthday on Tuesday.


I failed to mention last week my mother’s 93rd birthday would have been celebrated last Thursday (she was born Nov. 11, 1917, in Lodz, Poland, arriving in New York about four years later). My mother enjoyed a good adventure yarn, in print or on film. One of her favorites, which she passed down to me, was The Scarlet Pimpernel. She made me read the book and we enjoyed watching the Leslie Howard-Merle Oberson film when it showed up on TV. It did so again this morning and I took the opportunity to spend some time with youthful memories.

My mom would be just slightly older than the women to whom I deliver meals each week. I always ask if they need assistance reaching something on a high shelf. No, they reply. Whether in a single family home or an apartment, they live in a one-dimensional world. Nothing of importance, nothing not needed for everyday life—plates, cups, linens—is stored outside their immediate reach.


One of the stores we frequented when our children were young was Danny’s Cycles. We bought Dan and Ellie their first bikes there. Also my first two-wheeler (a story for another day). We always said hello to Danny, whose father named the store after him and who had given the store to Danny by the time we began patronizing it.

A few weeks ago, in need of new pedals for my exercise bike, I stopped into Danny’s and asked Steve, who had been with the store for about 20 years, since he was a teenager, where Danny was. He was in Florida, retired. I was shocked. Danny couldn’t have been more than 40-45 years old. He’s doing volunteer work there, having been bought out, said Steve. I was pleased to see new ownership had retained Steve. Pleasure turned into satisfaction when Steve told me he was the new owner.


One of my relatives, who shall go nameless lest I embarrass the poor soul, recently sent me some “great literary taunts,” among which comes the following which makes perfect sense when applied to Tea Party members:

"They never open their mouths without subtracting from the sum of human
knowledge."
--- Thomas Brackett Reed

No doubt my relative will not be amused, being of the conservative persuasion, to the endless regret of the relative’s spouse. But if you can’t take a joke, what’s the point of sending jokes?


Conservatism creeps up on you. It’s commonly understood that as one ages one becomes more conservative, more set in one’s ways. Probably true. What I used to accept as acceptable college age behavior I now tsk-tsk at. My recent admonition against Four Loko and other alcohol-caffeine drinks might fit into that category if it weren’t for the real danger those mixtures pose. Glad to see the FDA agrees and is forcing the makers of such potables to cease and desist.

Troubling is the reaction of too many (underage) college students to stock up on the brew while it’s still in stores.


Finally, I will not embarrass myself by revealing what infinitesimal percentage of Twitter followers my blog has compared to the 5.3 million who breathlessly await the latest nail-clipping, bra-busting, hair-splitting, pout-mouthed tweet from Kim Kardashian (please, nobody say they don’t know who she is, but just in case, here’s a link from today’s paper: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/11/18/fashion/18KIM.html?_r=1&scp=1&sq=kim%20kardashian&st=cse).

Kim, if I may be so bold to call her by her first name, might have started her notoriety with a sex tape, but she’s one helluva marketer.