TAKE THIS... YOU REALITY TV HOUSEWIVES..

A group of local women I know, many for some time now, get together on a regular basis. I like to think of us as a unique and beautiful collection of the female persuasion. Intelligent and passionate; our backgrounds are as varied as our number which over the years has hovered close to 30. Yes, that's right - 30.

That's a lot of beauty, intelligence and passion.

If there is a poster child of groups of women who gather together - it is this collection of ladies who call themselves CLUB MEETING.

Two words, which when appear in the subject line of our unread email lists, we are delighted, thankfully, that this will continue to bring this eclectic assembly together.

I do not profess to be any sort of leader or spokeswomen for these women.

But my life would be totally different, perhaps non-existent, if not for this group of friends. That's a pretty powerful statement to make; even more so to commit to the written word.

These gals have embraced my affection and amusement for changing my hair as well as my frightening willingness to change it by way of curling, dyeing it dark, bleaching it platinum, frosting, cutting it off and growing out what God has blessed me with. I know they speak of this behind my back but they are never shy about telling me to my face what they think.

I love my girlfriends.

Having said all this, I attribute this particular call to the keyboard to the lovely person who came up to me today and asked if I was blogging again because they saw a recent one on Facebook; I occasionally do and so....you know who you are and I am dedicating this blog to you!

In my world which includes my 'guilty' pleasure of watching ALL of those Real Housewives on Bravo TV, I just thought it would be nice to share that not all women who gather together fight and get nasty.

Some just have fun, laugh, take photos we can't publish, drink too much, talk too loud in public places, accuse bartenders of not putting any tequila in our margaritas (that is when it is never pretty), bond and enjoy our animal print obsessions (that would be me; but I AM from New Jersey!)

So here's another blog, another window into my personality disorder and another reason to be thankful for my girlfriends.

Consider this some fodder to help take your minds off of your tanking 401k's if you are fortunate to have one left
and those wars in the Middle East they all told us would be over by now.

I like to tell jokes, and be funny at times. I also live to write poetry and this blogging stuff is my excuse to write and have to type a little so I don't forget how.

 
Here's to my friends, old and new, welcome to real 'reality'. It's not mean-spirited and full of terrible drama.
Maybe we're just getting too damn old for drama and just happy to be healthy enough to go out and party.

That is a wonderful thing.

Peace

NEVER SAY NEVER

You want to buy us a 'what' and do 'what'?????

In the early 1970’s my parents lived in the Adirondacks.  Faithfully, I’d drive to see them at least once a month from Worcester, Massachusetts and more often than not, I made the trip solo.  I enjoyed the almost 4 hour open road journey and the freedom of the road that guided me through the Berkshires. Each passing mile marker brought me closer to memories of childhood summers and smells of the old Victorian house that stood grandly above the clear mountain lake.

Travelling west on the Mass Pike, I sailed along the open road singing along to my favorites Jackson Browne, Linda Ronstadt, Bob Dylan and James Taylor. My dreamy state of a humming engine and the blaring songs were all I needed  until I pulled off of the Northway at the Saratoga Springs exit. Now the radio was turned off so I could simply enjoy the ride.

I looked forward to this two-lane road which would lead me straight to my folk’s driveway in Lake Luzerne, NY.   

This was what I came to call the 'homestretch'.

In my mind I was almost there. My European-made car could now do what it did best – tightly embrace miles of winding asphalt as it climbed higher altitudes into fragrances of pines that awakened the senses. This was the fun part.

Sometimes,  suddenly and without warning, something would happen as I tested the law enforcement of speed zones…an encounter of the WORST KIND.

Dead ahead, a slow-moving, bobbing and weaving white box on wheels would appear; as I tried to blink away the apparition before me, reality hit like a kick in the gut…

THE DREADED RECREATIONAL VEHICLE.

 
ARE YOU KIDDING ME??????????

My thoughts became audible, loud and anxious. "These things are a MENACE to the real owners of the road" – it got worse and went something like this:
Who the (expletive) would be insane enough to go on an (expletive) vacation in an (expletive) aluminum box!!! I was livid.

The fast time I had made on the highway was now compromised. I was doing HALF of the speed limit and the moron had his left blinker on - there was no left turn for miles.

I could do only one thing for my safety and the others on the road. I slumped in my seat, downshifted to 3rd gear and became the first in line of what was to be a Samba dance of drivers who all shared my pain.

The snake-like line of vehicles became the prisoners of MARGE AND HARRY FROM OSWEGO, NY which was airbrushed on the spare tire cover on the back of their RV.

I made a promise that evening so many years ago to myself - I swore to never, ever own one of those gawd awful things.

Never say never.