Today in My History

2000: The Pipes are Calling
Day of Rest
Tinsel Town
I Didn't Want to Know
Separate and Unequal
A SALARIED Philosopher
I'm Depressed

We Sail the Ocean Blue...Again

Bouncing Bodies
Brief Encounters
Post Cousins Day Meme
The Butterfly
2012: Sunday Stealing

Wear Grey
A Bit of This, A Bit of That
2016: Saturday 9
2017: Sunday Stealing
Two for One

Theater Reviews
Updated 8/09
"The Wiz"

Books Read in 2019
 Updated 7/20
"Play Dead"

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My family

Books Read in 2019
Books Read in 2018

Books Read in 2017
Books Read in 2016
Books Read in 2015
Books Read in 2014
Books Read in 2013

Books Read in 2012
Books Read in 2011
Books Read in 2010


updated 7/16

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The Philosophy of Juice & Crackers
The story of Delicate Pooh
The story of the Pinata Group
Pumpkin pies
Who IS this Gilbert person anyway?

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13 August 2019

Every time I put cream cheese on a bagel, I think of Roz Morrow.

Roz was a woman from Annapolis, MD whom I met through the Experiment in International Living.  I attended a meeting in San Francisco and while standing in the hotel lobby listening to a lot of moaning and groaning from people who didn't like having exchange students from Brasil, I said, rather loudly, "Isn't there anybody who LIKES Brasilians?"

From the other side of the room I heard someone say "What do you mean?  I LOVE Brasilians."  A friendship was born before we ever even met.

We went out to lunch together and compared our different Brasilian students.  I learned her husband Stan was an actor in Annapolis (he had started his acting career with the Yiddish theater in New York) and now worked with Greyhound leading various tours.  We spent the rest of that weekend together and said we would have to get together again sometime.

Six months later, we did.  It was another Experiment meeting, at Experiment headquarters in Brattleboro, VT.  Stan came this time.  I was eager to meet him.  I knew he had recently appeared as Sancho Panza in a production of Man of La Mancha.  I was sitting in the cafeteria, waiting for Roz to come when this man walked in the door who was the living image of Sancho Panza.  And he was. 

We enjoyed the weekend together and a friendship was born.  We visited them in Annapolis a few times, they visited us here a couple of times.  After Stan died, I spent several days with Roz and went with her to see her granddaughter in a theater production.

Roz and I had lots in common.  Weight problems for one thing.  She was always on a diet and I was pleased to read in her obituary this morning that she had finally reached her goal weight through TOPS.  We both had lots of gay friends.  We both had lots of kids who were interested in theater. 

We kind of drifted apart -- it's hard to sustain a close friendship with such a big distance between and when I looked on the internet for her a couple of years ago, I found her obituary.  She died in 2012.

But I still think of her fondly every single time I put cream cheese on a bagel because I remember staying with her and having plates of bagels and bowls of cream cheese on the table every morning for breakfast.

It's funny how the smallest things keep people who were once close back again.

It doesn't take much to remember Michele, who was a very good friend and who died of COPD a few years ago.  Char and I took some of her ashes  to France with us to scatter in the Mediterranean because she always wanted to go to France and never had the opportunity.

She was one of the "Piņata People," a latecomer, but fully accepted by everyone.  We were very this picture taken on a camping trip to "Eric's property" when we got caught in a rainstorm.  Char, Michele and I waited in the camp with all the kids (one in a cast for his broken leg) and a very unhappy dog, while Walt, Mike and Richard went to get help to pull our car up the dirt road that was too wet to drive up.  She is holding a sign that says "Keep from Moisture."  We laughed a lot at Eric's property (their son's name is Eric).

ANYWAY, I have lots and lots of memories of Michele, but I think of her every time I change roll of toilet paper.  She was an "over the top" person and Char was a "under the bottom" person (I think it has something to do with having dogs vs. having cats).  There were lots of friendly arguments about that topic.  I didn't think I cared, but discovered that I was an over the top person too.  Whenever I visited either of them, I religiously changed the toilet paper before I left.  To this day, many years after her death, changing the roll of toilet paper makes me smile and remember her.

My sleep habits have become so bizarre lately ... often no sleep at all ... that every morning when I complain to Walt that I only had 2 or 3 or 4 hours of sleep -- or no sleep at all -- I immediately think of Gilbert, who had terrible insomnia and usually greeted me each time I saw him with a report on how little sleep he'd had.

Like Michele, there are lots and lots of memories of things about Gilbert to think of, but it's insomnia that makes me think of him most mornings. 

Also, whenever I take a Tums for heartburn, I think of him because he had terrible heartburn and now I do, so I pop a Tums in my mouth and smile, remembering Gilbert.

I don't have to work at thinking about Peggy, of course.  I learned a lot from her, but two things stand out.  One is socks.  Peggy had more socks than anybody and she taught me how to fold them.  All my life I'd done what my mother did, which was to line the 2 socks up and then start at the toe and roll them into a ball, folding the cuffs over to make a ball.  Peggy lined her socks up and then just folded the cuff over them, which kept them together but made them flat and easier to fit in a drawer.  I've been doing it that way ever since I realized how sensible it was.

She also recycled her plastic bags, but flattened them first and tied them into a knot, which kind of makes the resulting recycle smaller and easier to fit into a bag.

There are many people, throughout my life, who have had an impact and I carry pieces of them with me all the time, but these four have had perhaps the most profound effect when it comes to things that I changed because of them.  It's kind of nice to do something and realize that it reminds you of good times had with good friends long ago.





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