I am off in ten minutes to get my mammogram. and after, I am going to have luncheon with a 93 year old lady (in the city full of gosh darned traffic) who was a friend with my parents, actually lived across the street, catty cornered from us when I was growing up. Her name is Allegra.
Her family lived on the other side of the street and they had two lots. One held their beautiful home and the other, separated them form the chicken /poultry farm/market on the corner. I remember you could actually hear the chickens and actually hear them killing them. My mother was a good customer of the poultry market for years until, one time my mother went in to purchase chickens and the man behind the counter said an anti Semitic remark. My little teeny shy mama let him have it and never returned to the store. My brothers & friends used to collect the clawed chicken legs and one time put them into my bed. I have looked under the covers ever since and I assume it will be a lifelong thing.

Thought I would tell you about my newest Garmin story as it occurred on the way to meet Allegra. Garmin, you know my new personal navigational assistant. I guess her name is Garmin, but I call her Bitch. You see, I have not tried her services in any areas I haven’t gone before on my own. But yesterday I was meeting Allegra, and she said come whenever you want, so I relaxed and let the little sucker go. I cursed at her all the way there because she did not take me on any known route. But finally I said, “Bitch do whatever you want.” So she did. She took me through canyons of the back hills, over the mountain, into valleys over dales and meadows and finally I dropped down into the big city, full of gosh darned traffic and right to Allegra’s front door on Pandora Street. Ok good. So, on the way home, I punched in home and said, “Bitch, it is your turn.” She took me again over a different part of the mountain, into the canyon, through the valley and from side to side one street after another I didn’t know existed. Every once in awhile she would take me out for a peek into known lands and back into the woods (we don’t have any woods, but it looked like woods to me). I think she is programmed NOT to go on any freeways. I will have to see about that? Humm. Anyhow I thought about telling you. So I did.

I went for my mammogram, as I mentioned in the first paragraph. It is not funny to have one of those squeezes, but this story is funny to me. I went at the appointed time 8:45 A.M. The lady said. “ You are here mighty early.” “Oh,” said I. She said my appt. was for 8:45 P.M. I told her I could not possibly come back and that by 9:00 P.M. I would be sleeping. Usually not true, but true for this day only. What the… how can they have appointments so late at night? When do they go home? Must work in shifts. The little lady felt badly for me because the actual time written down on my appointment slip said: 8:45 A.M. Gosh. I must have looked panic stricken when she said it takes three months to get another appointment so, she said, “Since you are here, I think we can squeeze you in.” Right. And squeeze they did. I am still a little sore. Bit as I paid my $5.00 co-pay, I looked on the floor just to the right of my right shoe, there was a 5-rupee bill from India. It was all wadded up, but I know money when I see it. A bill from India poured down from the heavens above. Is this God speaking? Next trip?? What do you think?

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Before Becky left for New York, she had a conference with her gardener. She told him she needed certain things done and especially some work in the rose garden. He listens intently, and then started. “Miss Becky, I want you to come with me to Bakersfield.” (Hotter than a burnt frittata in those parts, by the way) “I want you to come and have wine on my patio and we can look out at the ocean. (There is no ocean for 100 or more miles. Bakersfield is smack dab in the middle of California) You can marry me. I want you marry me.”

Becky said she turned ashen because this little gentleman is 36 years old and is just a puppy in her mind’s eye. She had to go over this encounter in her mind before responding. She finally answered back, “But you wanted my daughter two years ago, haven’t you found someone else? “ No Miss, I waiting for you.” Your daughter is married and you not anymore.” At least this puppy waited until the body had time to settle.

Becky said, “ I know he is too young and not in my way of life, but I am so flattered.” I said, “Don’t be, he wants ANYONE to marry him because he needs to become a citizen. “Oh, I didn’t think of
that, oh boo hoo, I thought he liked me. “He does, but he will marry a telephone pole if it will give him American citizenship.”

So there you have it, cookie. Hope you are having fun in New York.

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Becky is on the plane to New York. It took off an hour ago. She called last night to thank me for the tour of Ross Dress For Less. You see, Becky is a Nordstrom’s, Bloomies, shopper. When they opened Bloomingdales in Los Angeles, I am not kidding you; Becky got a special pass and was # 1 in the door on opening day.

The day we went to Ross, she was wearing one of her charming outfits from, yes, you know where. I am not saying anything against high end shopping, I do it myself, but I do both high and low. Becky had never before stepped into the low end, well, not this low. Not low to me, by the way, I think it is intriguing, exploratory and well suited to any pocketbook. I digress.

I had plans to meet Becky at the front door of the store. She said she would be waiting outside the door in the parking. I told her it was too hot, to go inside and start shopping. I arrived two minutes late and I spotted Becky in the petite section, she says not because she is thin, but because she is short.. She and I had gathered the 8 things you are permitted in the dressing rooms. We started to go over, so I taught her to put them in a cart just outside of the dressing rooms and then, when you have exhausted your 8 try on’s, you can go out to your cart and get the rest. She was so worried about leaving things in the cart for fear someone would take her hard earned choices. I assured her there was a strict code of honor in this store and not to worry that anyone will take anything from her basket.

We got into the dressing room and Becky began to examine each item with a fine-toothed comb. I suggested she start trying on the clothes. Each item was scrutinized. Finally after a number of try on’s later, she stated that the clothes must be seconds and something was wrong with them. I said, “They have to be marked seconds and I don’t see any markings on these items.” “Well,” she said, “Look they are so lopsided on me. Look one shoulder is up and the other is down. Look they go up on one side and down on the other.” After studying the look, I started to laugh. “Hey,” Beck.” I laughed, “It is not the clothes it is you. You are up on one shoulder and lumpy on one side and you stoop over a little bit so the clothes are up in the back and down in the front quite naturally. You’ve got a little belly there, so you have to get pants that fit over the belly ball and will naturally have a little more material in other places.” She looked at the clothes a second time and laughed, too. After all the trying on and the discussions about each garment, I had had it with her. I said, “Buy them all.” For $5.99 and $6.99, you don’t even have to wash them. Just dump them. Never, I am way too practical. But it got Beck going and she bought her summer wardrobe for $70.00, just a tiny speck over the price of her fancy T-shirt from you know where. Teaching Becky about $5.99 and $6.99 shirts and $7.99- $10.99 pants that look really GREAT was a lot of fun for her and for me, too. Remember, if the clothes do not fit exactly right check out the manikin you are dressing. Also, remember if the price is too good to believe, get one size bigger. It is just a little rule and a good one.

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Becky’s friend Cici has been dating three, sometimes four men all at the same time. She has been Becky’s guru and confidant during the past few months since Becky’s husband died. I am not going to tell you Becky’s married life was the envy of us all because it was not, but after 30 years, who still judges?

Becky’s friend Cici does the judging for her. She tells Becky, she does not know what she has missed. She says there are all kinds of men out there, good and certainly bad, and then, there are whole bunches in between. Becky has told Cici of the ones she has met so far, and that she is generally thrilled that none of them possess some of the traits he abhorred in her first and second marriages. Cici says these men have not shown their true colors yet. Just wait. Cici dates as many men as will date her. She says she wants to make up for lost time. Becky told me that this philosophy is backfiring on Cici right now. Her 87 year old and her 84 year old are both in the hospital. One is in the Eisenhower and the other in JFK. She visits one and scoots across the street to visit the other. She says she fills her days with hospital visits. This scares Becky. She says so. “ I don’t want to be scooting across back and forth tending to my new guys.” I don’t even want to be driving by one of those hospitals. I spent the last 7 years in a hospital and I don’t want to do it again.

Becky’s new beau is a man who likes to have a drink or two, maybe more, she doesn’t say, but the drinking aspect of the relationship concerns her. She has never seen him drunk or anything of that nature, but he bemoans the fact that when he drinks she takes a drink, too. Cici inquires why Becky should be so worried about taking a drink. Becky declares that she gets to loose and starts to have too much fun. Oh poor Becky, can’t even allow herself to have some loosened up fun. Another thing Becky has decided to do with the one she likes the best is to dump him. Cici asks why in the world would you do that when you are having so much fun and you like him so much? Becky recounts that if she dumps him, he can’t dump her. She likes him too much and thinks he is a player and will play right out of her life. She says she just can’t chance another hurt. We are dealing here folks with senior citizens and to me they both are sounding like teenagers. Oh dear, I remember the teenage years as the roughest of times. My heart goes out to Becky and her friend Cici. “But there for the Grace of God”

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The A-16 clothes size (14-16) issue is being solved. I received return emails from the managers, and the buyer for the stores. They really do want to make their customers happy. They have been notified by me that I will be in there at the end of next week and to please have sizes I can wear and I mentioned I was bringing some friends ranging from 12-16 in sizes. They want me to call them and tell them what to truck in, but I don’t know what to ask for, so I said, please just have some cute, up to date in style, travel pants in the sizes requested. I thanked them in advance. I am reporting to you that they are very obliging and helpful.

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Dear Customer Service at the Adventure 16 Stores,

I went into our neighborhood A-16 Store as I have for many years. It is located in beautiful downtown Tarzana. It gave me my start many years ago in travel gear and I am semi-famous for my travel style.
I came home today after a very disheartening experience with my hunt in your store for the perfect pair of travel pants for our up coming travel event.

Low and behold, folks, you DO NOT have a size 14 in your entire store. There are none anywhere even in the back room. I am unable with the passing of years to fit into the size 12’s, which by the way are cut much smaller than in the past. Did you know that if they take off an inch or two on each pair of pants, within a short while they could add an extra pair of pants to their line?

Well, what a shame that you cannot service me, or anyone like me. You have plenty of size 4’s, 6’s and even one or two 12’s, but alas NO 14’s. I am not fat or even big. I just have rounded out a bit and what with the cutting of an inch or so on each size I have been cut out of the equation. My next letter goes straight to the newspapers. What a story. I will jazz it up a bit for them and make it pretty funny, but with a hollow sad sound. With all that the world is facing and my friends and neighbors face each day, I guess this is really no big deal, but really it is a sad deal for me and one I must face alone. That is why I am writing to you. So you don’t like big people and in no way do you want a FAT person to go to your store. Oh dear, this spells prejudice to me.

I have purses, hats, shoes, travel cubes, water bottles, water purifying systems, shirts, fleece jackets and sweatshirts from your store, but alas, you have no pants for the likes of me. What humiliation and a dishonor that you have nothing for me after so many years of loyalty to you.

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Another story from Becky. The person who made the comment about getting Becky to sign a permission slip with a Notary in attendance has been requested.

This is the new dating development for Becky. Some former famous soccer player from Canada makes the 2 1/2 hour trip from Los Angeles to Palm Desert to meet her. She stays in her desert home when the weather is nice. It is a blind date, which will turn out to be the blind date from hell. He arrives bringing a wad of wrinkled clothes from the back seat of his silver Cadillac and tells her he will spend the night and then, asks where to put his things.

They sit and talk awhile. He is a miserable kind of person that she does not like, but decides to make the best of having dinner together and then, he can move his arse on out. They have dinner and things aren’t getting any better for Brcky. They return to her place and he is flipping through his wrinkled pile of clothes deciding on what would be best for lounging. B, gets a friend to call and she gets all dramatic. Her mother has fallen, a lie, she has to leave immediately to see about her mother, a lie, she gets out her suitcase, packs clothes, tells the famous soccer player to take his things and shoves him out of the door with her suitcase which she places in her trunk after she locks and seals the house up. She backs out of the driveway waving and shouting bye now. He stares after her. She drives around for 40 minutes, drives back home, pulls her car into the garage, takes out her suitcase, breaths a sigh of relief and never sees Mr. Has Been Soccer player, so far, again. What dramatics are going on in the dating world of my friend Becky? Let me tell you there is more. I will continue with Becky’s escapades tomorrow.

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My Friend Becky Baker, Butler Bradley, soon to be Boyle!
My friend Becky Baker, Butler, Bradley, soon to be Boyle has decided to wait a few more months before marrying Boyle, because Browne, the one she really wants, has only been a widower for two weeks and he is too fresh. Even though Boyle wants her desperately in any way he can get her, she is going to wait for Browne.

Becky lost Mr. Butler and Mr. Bradley because of two totally different causes, but has this to say about each husband. She does not mind telling you that Mr. Butler was a thief. Mr. Bradley was immoral as well, but in a more covert way. Mr. Butler was out there and Mr. Bradley was hidden until the day he died and then, every little thing came dripping out before the coffin was even in the ground. Also, before the body was cold and the coffin was lowered, the mortician wanted Becky. He was as desperate for her as she is desperate for the fresh new widower she met a few days prior to Mr. Bradley’s demise.

Becky says yes, she will be delighted to join you and then, close, very close to the time you are to meet, she says she is too tired, too ill, too hot, too frustrated and or depressed, too poor, too busy, too conflicted or just any old excuse that doesn’t even always make sense. But then again, if you know Becky, it makes sense, well to her anyhow. She is not too tired, too ill, too hot, or too anything for the painter, the postman, the mortician, the Rabi and the businessman. She is sometimes fixated and obsessed with herself. It works for her. It gives her time to think. It gives her something to do. She has accepted a date with the mortician and they enjoy most of the day and a small part of the evening. The mortician leaves her at the front door, she is in the house freshening up for the postman, who knocks gently, five minutes later and is received strongly. They go off in his new Mercedes to the Greek Festival, just around the corner: they could have walked, but then how would the Mercedes have an opportunity to play its role. You see, the postman told her he is too poor for the likes of her, but the Mercedes does notify a different side to this poor postman. At least that is the way Becky sees it. Becky and the postman didn’t get it on this time, but there are hopes, desires and further attempts mainly in the heart of the postman.

The next afternoon after the double date for Becky, we attended a birthday party luncheon for a good friend of Becky’s. Becky invited me not out of love & respect, but out of being a ready and willing driver. I thought it would be nice to be with lots of ladies I barely knew. I sat quietly on the sidelines, listening, sipping my tea. A lady-sitting kiddy cornered across from me was prescribed Viagra for her stomach ailments. It was prescribed because it causes increased blood flow and it is hoped that increased blood flow to this woman’s organs would help with her ailments. You can imagine the questions that ensued. She dutifully answered all of the questions. Such as does it do anything for your sex-life? She just rolled her eyes up, winked coyly and smiled as the answer.

I also sat directly across from a gorgeous woman with amazing eyes. I actually photographed them. She had rotator cuff surgery and the physical therapy was too aggressive, so consequently they tore it again. She had to have the second surgery and more physical therapy.

The lady down the row who is too young for Alzheimer’s has it anyhow. She spent a great amount of time, frantically searching for her lost make up kit and her money!

The most messed up looking luncheon attendee brought up that she was retired and cleaning out her closet after thirty years of working. She stated that she had so many interview suits and couldn’t imagine every going on an interview. Becky piped up and stated that she needed them. Imagine Becky in an interview suit. Even if she did wear one, where was she planning to interview?

Another woman is a cancer survivor. Credit is due to a courageous fight. Actually she has had several bouts with cancer and successfully battled and won both times. She is amazing.

Another just lost her husband, but I did not get the cause. Another lady just turned 60 (the birthday girl) and was bemoaning the fact that all she got for her birthday from her live in boyfriend was a Mercedes I.O.U. Not the car because he did not know the color she would prefer. I chidingly said,” What else could you want?” And she said,” a wedding ring.” Oops.

The lady to the right side of me is recovering from hip replacement surgery and needs the other side replaced. She began to tell the story of how her mother spent the night in jail for domestic violence this passed weekend. The woman is 93 and her second or maybe third husband is a decade younger, but frail and recovering from cancer treatments. The 93 year old was tearing at the shirt of her one time beloved because he was taping their present fight, so he would have details with which to commit her to a mental institution leaving him with some peace in his dying state. She tore his shirt and scratched him during the scuffle. He called the police and they came to take away this 93 year old in handcuffs. By the time my friend got to the jail with the bail, her mother had made best friends with everyone in the jailhouse and my friend was told that she should be more understanding and listen more to her mother. Oh dear.

It is interesting because I do not know this group of ladies very well, just slightly at weddings etc. So this was my view and my observations limited and varied only as much as my familiarity and understanding allows. . They are all so nice and what I noticed about every one of them is that they have gorgeous smiles. Good orthodontists and dental hygienists at work.
Don’t know why I wrote this, but I did. I think I am trying to hide form my closets and some of my fears and anxieties. I am on my second bag for the Goodwill. I am going back to their next luncheon and then, it can be someone’s turn to write about me.

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