L'empress A to Z
Tue., April 5, 08:49 PM
Well, you know me. Sooner or later I’ll pick up one of these things. If you’ve been reading my posts, you know a lot of this stuff already.
Accent: Probably, though I don’t hear it. It’s not New York, or New England, but it’s almost certainly different from yours.
Bra Size: Still 36D, even if one side is a little loose.
Chore I Hate: The constant picking up, especially when it’s not my stuff.
Dad's Name: Benedict.
Essential Make-Up: Eye liner and mascara – even more important than lipstick and blush.
Favorite Perfume: Chanel No. 5 or Beautiful. Mostly they sit in the drawer because I’m going someplace where it’s not appropriate.
Gold or Silver: Gold usually, or platinum.
Hometown: Southwestern Connecticut, about thirty-five miles from New York City.
Interesting Fact: I once won $250 on a television game show called “Inquizition” – by phone!
Job Title: Job? Title? I’d rather be called a secretary and have an interesting job than be a “paralegal” in a boring office.
Kids: Daughters thirty-five (U.D.) and thirty-four (M.D.), son thirty-two. (I seemed to be pregnant for three years straight…)
Living Arrangements: Same cheesebox I’ve been in for more than thirty years, currently sharing with Husband and U.D. and all their junk.
Mom's Birthplace: The Lithuanian part of the U.S.S.R, in a village near Dvinsk (now called Daugavpils).
Number of apples eaten in last week: Four, I think – three Granny Smith and one Red Delicious.
Overnight Hospital Stays: Seven, I believe. Three for babies. Twice as a kid, once for tonsils and once for something called ethmoiditis. And a couple of other surgeries. Nothing life-threating.
Phobia: Great fear of falling. Not necessarily of heights. Y’know, I’m fairly certain I won’t fall out of a plane.
Question You Ask Yourself a Lot: What was I doing, why did I come in here…
Religious Affiliation: Still more Jewish than anything else.
Siblings: One brother, one sister, both younger.
Time I Wake Up: Around six. If I don’t have to get up, I wake up naturally about that time.
Unnatural Hair Color: I don’t color my hair. The most unnatural is the wig I’ve been wearing, which – though pepper and salt – is grayer than my own hair.
Vegetable I Refuse To Eat: I’ll eat just about any vegetable that’s cooked properly. But I don’t want any bananas.
Worst Habit: Thinking I have no bad habits.
X-rays:Sure. When I was I kid they even x-rayed our feet to make sure our shoes fit. In recent years, lots of x-rays, bone scans, CT scans. Almost all of them showed nothing remarkable.
Yummy Food I Make: Well, I hardly cook any more; it’s hard to perform without an audience. But when I do…chicken soup with matzo balls.
Zodiac Sign: Gemini. However, two-faced that I am, on the Jewish calendar I’m Taurus.
While searching for something else (of course), I found two clippings from long ago. My guess – from the yellow paper and the content – is that I cut these out when I was in college, more than forty years ago. I didn’t note any date or source, so I have no idea where they’re from. Better I should share them here than put them away to be lost for another forty years.
by the Reverend E. Ziegler
Roanoke, Virginia
Science is my shepherd. I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down on foam rubber mattresses. He leadeth me beside the six-lane highways. He rejuvenateth my thyroid gland. He leadeth me into the paths of psychoanalysis for peach of mind’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the Iron Curtain, I will fear no Communist, for thou art with me. Thou preparest a banquet for me in the presence of the world’s billion hungry peoples. Thou anointest my head with home permanents; my beer glass foameth over. Surely pleasure and prosperity shall follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in Shangri-la forever.
from “The Nation”
You’ve lost your religion, the Rabbi said.
It wasn’t much to keep, said I.
You should affirm the spirit, said he,
And the communal solidarity.
I don’t feel so solid, I said.
We are the people of the Book, the Rabbi said,
Not of the phone book, said I.
Ours is a great tradition, said he,
And a wonderful history.
But history’s over, I said.
We Jews are creative people, the Rabbi said.
Make something, then, said I.
In science and in art, said he,
Violinists and physicists have we.
Fiddle and physic indeed, I said.
Stubborn and stiff-necked man! the Rabbi cried.
The pain you give me, said I.
Instead of bowing down, said he,
You go on in your obstinacy.
We Jews are that way, I replied.
The author is named Howard Nemerov. I wonder whatever happened to him.
