Meg is having herself quite a week. She is thankful to her book club friends, Anne, Sarah, Beth, Vicky and Carolyn. They tossed back lots of wine and laughed, and then Meg cried. She is going to miss you guys! We are thinking we may have to Skype our future bookclub gatherings so we can watch each other uncork wine. It’s a deal, girls!
Today Meg sorted through things and found this photo she has been looking for for years:
She and her Dad were at the Chart Room in Cautaumet, Cape Cod, kicking back and enjoying a few cocktails before dinner. Seeing his sturdy arm around young Meg kind of makes her feel things will be alright as she finishes packing up this week.
And just to seal the deal, Meg found this:
Meg was enamored of Snoopy as a young kid, and endlessly drew him on every surface. Snoopy, thanks for making me feel just a little bit wonderful today. I needed that.
Meg’s blahgie friend Susan told a cute Jackie Gleason joke for NaBloPoMo last week, and it got Meg to thinking, she can steal that idea for her blahg and flesh out some of her own thoughts on the comedian known as the Great One.
OK, so first of all, Meg knows she’s dating herself, dishing that she watched the Jackie Gleason show when she was a kid. There was that great theme music and then out popped Jackie from behind the curtain. She thought he was hilarious; except then they did the Honeymooners skit. That used to remind Meg of her grandparents fighting, and she didn’t dig that drama as a kid. It was only later in life that she realized Alice and Ralph really loved each other, which made Meg realize years later that when her Nana threw that shoe at Papa’s head, it was a sign of affection.
Anyway, one of her favorite parts of the show was the June Taylor Dancers. Meg pictured herself as one of those showgirls lying on stage making stars and all kinds of kaliedoscope shapes with her legs.
Alas Meg was no dancer, but she has taken advantage of a many pool with her friends, where the weightlessness of water makes the dream of being a June Taylor dancer come true. Now that Meg has a pool in her new house, she can live that fantasy every single day!
Jackie Gleason also got Meg to thinking about her Dad, and how when he was young he used to work weekends in the kitchen at a local Italian restaurant for some extra $$.
One of those weekends Dad came home and said he had packed up some takeout for Jackie Gleason. She was pretty sure it involved and antipasto and some meatballs and crusty Italian bread.
Meg, ever curious was THRILLED to find out Jackie was in the area, and where could she go see him?
It turns out Jackie was holed up in a nearby town at a little spot called Dropkick Murphy’s, and Meg soon found out Dropkick was a old boxer that helped folks get over what the Irish called “problems with the drink“.
Yes, it turns out Jackie was drying out and had a hankering for some good Italian. Meg always hoped he got better and enjoyed some good local cuisine at the same time.
Years later, there came group that named themselves after the famous little rehab place:
Which makes Meg think how much she is going to miss Boston. She’s going to ship herself up to Boston early and often, rest assured.
And her affection for Jackie Gleason remains eternal.
When Mama Kat first suggested the subject of writing about something we once wore, I’m not sure why my mind did not go to something spectacular; like my wedding dress:
Or a pretty sparkly dress:
No, that’s not what happened. Seared into my mind’s eye, is an outfit from the early 90’s. Meg attended a casual wedding rehearsal dinner, and was dressed in the following:
Blue and white chiffon palazzo pants.
A white crocheted vest and with white tee underneath.
Oh yes. Something as bad as these.
This might not sound as heinous as you think, but trust Meg, it’s the worst outfit she ever wore. She’s pretty sure she burned
the ensemble after she saw the resulting photos, which by the way, took WEEKS to be viewed, because some of you young ones might not remember the fact we were still shooting on with film back then. So in your mind’s eye, you actually had a month or so where you THOUGHT you looked cute.
Imagine the devastation when you picked your roll of film up and saw the resulting carnage? The glare of the silver shoes, the unflattering swirl of the pants, and drape of the vest were are all wrong. And for weeks Meg was thinking she going to have some cute souvenir photos; and then in one fell swoop there she was, with the specter of Mr T. saying:
I pity the fool who wore palazzo pants.
Ladies of a certain age, don’t ever be tricked into a trend that was popular in high school. I just thank my lucky stars that I had Mr. T on my shoulder shouting “don’t buy a poncho you fool“!
Meg thinks she did an admirable job of biting her tongue for most of the election season; she used her blog, Facebook and Twitter account wisely. She respects her friends differences of opinion; she is glad they are informed on subjects and vote.
That is the most important thing of all people; that you VOTE.
Here’s what she can’t stand and might rave on about:
People calling the election a TRAVESTY.
Umm, guess what was a travesty? Florida and hanging chads, circa the year 2000. The Supreme Court deciding an election. That was insane. This my friends, was an election, plain and simple, won and lost on issues. And as close as it was, that’s where the chips fall. Some people just don’t get it, though:
And I’m talking to you, Donald Trump.
Clearly Ted Nugent is certifiable. Did he mean to say “have”? Off to remedial English, I say!
Victoria Jackson rises from former SNL obscurity to prove she’s nuts.
I’m so glad Karl Rove’s consulting rates have plummeted like a bad day on the stock market.
You know how you tell college bound kids to watch their social media accounts so future employers and close family members aren’t embarrassed? I think that should apply to alleged titans of industry as well as fringe celebrities.
As usual, my fake husband Jon Stewart recaps things as only he can: (Be sure to catch the part about “Republican arithmetic”!)
And now for Part 2:
TGIF people, and be thankful election season can no longer prey on our nerves. Now we can worry about Christmas shopping, instead.
Well kids, Meg went to Texas and procured a home this past weekend. She still has not processed this whole move thing, but here’s a few photos of the abode:
That fluorescent light needs to go. Meg knows that.
It has a requisite pool for all the family members that requested such a feature; plus any bloggers that might want to drop by.
Meg felt this house was one of the least over the top properties she viewed; it did not contain soaring ceilings, a wall full of gun racks or gold foil wallpaper. Meg liked the trees in the backyard, it made her feel like she was in New England. Speaking of which, one of her new neighbors is Stevie, who’s parents used to own the neighborhood Corner Store (real name!) in Meg’s hometown; where many a Snickers bar was purchased on the way home from school.
If that isn’t kismet, Meg doesn’t know what is.
Meg did observe the extreme politeness and genial manner of the people. It was very nice, but she feels like she is going to need some edgy people in her life, the kind that go “What the F**K” once in awhile.
In an interesting conversation during some football watching in the bar, their fellow bar stool dweller stated that he carried a concealed weapon, as did most of the residents of the neighboring small town. He went on to say the police chief was super nice about giving private gun lessons and classes to everyone who lived there, because, and I quote: “he likes the idea of the entire community being armed“. He also stated that he thought the Office of the POTUS could use a great a gunslinger like Rick Perry, because who needs those people with “those Ivy league edu-cay-shuns“. Hmm, guess he forgot GWB went to Harvard and Yale. And the prep school down the street from where Meg lives. Ahh, small details…
The only thing plan plans to arm is her mouth, with of course, her wit and charm. Wish her luck over the next few weeks as she packs up and rides into the sunset with Leo and little Jack.