Memories of well-spent junior high school days

Memories of well-spent junior high school days
For a starter — oh, my incredible English teacher, Mrs. Goldman at Riverdale JHS 141, oh-so-secretly invited me to help out at school, one hour early, so, that with the the dawn’s early light, I could secretly help her mark my classmates’ essays… No, maybe it was Miss Rau in ninth grade. (Your guess is as good as mine!) I was never a hard grader — besides, everyone in our class was so smart to begin with — and Miss Rau was forever conscientiously looking over my shoulder to be sure I didn’t give my friends any special benefits. Longtime cohorts like Peter (Dr....
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Madison’s Dilemma

Madison’s Dilemma
Such a pretty face with almost perfect blonde braids past her shoulders and blue eyes that disclosed her intelligence immediately. Self-contained to the max, or call it polite if you prefer — she listened quietly as I chatted with her grandmother about how wonderful tankinis were, pointing out that bikinis were rapidly becoming endangered species. Back when I turned 30, I’d stopped wearing bikinis  — I knew it was time to step up to a new decade, and my hair was cut to a just above the shoulders bob and my middle part was moved to the left. Now I’ll tell you all about my new...
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Heartfelt praise to two fabulous NYC policemen

October 1980, the usual —  every Saturday the same. Quick breakfast, pretty stroll over to the New York Society Library, where Philip Roth and Barbara Tuchman wrote, too, and where I started digesting Pythagorean Numerology.* Then off to Madison Avenue for a burger and a bit of sight-seeing. After taking a very thorough workshop on how to survive as a single woman in NYC, I had thought I learned most of the tricks — since I sometimes traveled alone at night,  I understood how important it was to be careful. 1. Walk like a man, cocksure, no invitations to strangers. 2.  When alone on an...
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Uncommon Scents – 1973

Uncommon Scents – 1973
“No secrets between us,” he whispered. “Wait a second … none at all?” “Non, ma cherie.”  His how shall we say French accent was Collegiate perfect. “But if this is going to be a Significant Romance…. shouldn’t there be a little left unsaid?” I said practicing my coy Music and Art tongue. “Significant — where did you ever get the notion this would ever be significant,” he asked me, after chasing me for four months  — spurned opera tickets and one or two rejected motorcyle ride invitations. Singing the theme from...
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Father’s Day without George Gilbert —

Father’s Day without George Gilbert —
Sadly, four of them, now, without you! I can still hear you whispering, “Let go.”  And then you were gone to your peace — no doubt, back in Mommy’s arms. I can’t say I’ve ever gotten used to being without you — because in a very real sense: you’re here with me every day.  What you taught me about how busy people can always find the time is so true.  And the joy you found in the little things, about giving to others, about how making it funny drives a point far deeper than a condescending lecture.  I look inside baby strollers, just like you once did,...
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Do you know what happened to Little Tiger?

Do you know what happened to Little Tiger?
Have I mentioned anything about our koi pond before? It’s so pretty– right next to our front door. When we moved in two years/eight months/seven days ago, there were two rather neglected goldfish floating absentmindedly in a pond fit for a prince or two.  A week later, Bill brought home two lively goldfish-like animals to spice things up, and then after considerable ogling, we chose our first-time-ever baby kois.  Kois!  Very smart fish who answer to their names and make us smile each time we look at them.  Bill has fed them diligently and I’ve called their names lovingly, every...
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