Yes. I’ve lost weight. I know I’ve lost weight. My pants are loose. Again.
Yes. I am in public. You haven’t seen me in a while. You, too, notice I have lost weight.
No. Don’t do it.
Do shut up about it.
Do not make a party. Do not approach me with smiles on your faces like sorority sisters letting the fat girl know that she’s finally redeemed herself and is welcome to the club. Do not invite me to swim in the pool of your approval.
Keep your fit-girl clubs and recitations of the challenges of losing weight and…
I might be a witness to our extinction. It seems important to mark the day I realize that.
It’s embarrassing to admit global warming snuck up on me. I know better. But like many Americans luxuriating in the drivel of our everyday lives, I pay scant attention to what’s happening.
I don’t deny that a climate catastrophe is in the making. I understand the emergency. I know something must be done.
I cheer Greta Thunberg. I recycle. I walk instead of driving when I can. …
My husband and I are walking down a street in Yonkers, New York, where we live. We see a huge pickup truck that is parked with its nose facing the sidewalk.
Inside, there is a hand-written note visible through the windshield:
Keep walking, because I’ve got a video camera on and if I recognize the person who broke into my truck last week I am going to crack your head open!
I love Yonkers.
Although posted months ago, the note is still up. When we walk by now we refer to the house as,
One Crack-Your-Head Plaza.
I was raised…
“The world goes ‘round and ‘round, but some things never change…” Britney Spears Pepsi commercial, 2001.
“You wanna boss daddy? Wanna legal baddy?
Want no control of body? Wanna lose faith in Goddy?
Wanna get real maddy? Wanna be real saddy?
What she got for her work, bitch…” Me, in the style of Britney Spears, 2021
I’d just like to state for the record that I feel like a real jerk.
I am not an expert on Britney Spears. I am the worst kind of snob.
I do a rather fabulous impersonation of her. I am particularly good at the…
Before I delve into the pure joy I felt while watching Storm Large perform on America’s Got Talent, allow me tell you a few things about women in their fifties.
I speak with authority. I am one.
First of all: I was eight years old before a woman could obtain a credit card without her husband’s permission. Then we came of age in the 1980s, which was an absolute sewer of a decade. Where do I even start?
Photo courtesy of Pixabay.
Perhaps you’re setting up your first house.
You can’t wait to fill it with appliances. You imagine you’ll make fresh bread and pasta. You’ll juice greens for breakfast. You think of cooking with your spouse, surrounded by your beautiful children, as David Bowie’s “Kooks” plays in the background.
Before you put any appliance on that gift registry of yours, a word.
The bread machine? You use it exactly once. You wonder why your bread doesn’t taste as good as you imagined. …
Every single time Ann Marie greeted me, it was with an exclamation point.
“LIZ!” she’d begin. “LIZ! We gotta talk!” “LIZ! Wait till you hear this!” “LIZ! I have something to tell you, honey.”
I have never had a friend quite as different as myself.
I am a tenth-generation American WASP. Ann Marie was a Catholic Italian-American; her parents emigrated from Italy. She was a devout believer in God. I am not. She loved trinkets and coffee cups with sayings on them and plastic unicorns. I despise clutter. I was born in Virginia. …
Editor’s note: This cognitive test was designed specifically for American politicians. It is pass-fail.
1. I am a United States Senator, and my state is experiencing severe winter weather. Our super special power grid that doesn’t have the Fed breathing down our neck with bogus regulations fails. My house is cold. Do I:
A) Set up a helpline
B) Call the Governor and ask if I can help
C) Explain to my family we are Texans and we are tough
D) Go to Cancun; Cancun sounds nice
2. Once I get to Cancun, do I:
A) Stay in a motel
Let’s say you and I have a couple of mutual friends in Congress. Their names are Friend Democrat and Friend Republican.
Suppose we arrive home after a long, hard day at work. We suck it up in spite of our exhaustion. We decide to make a tasty, nutritionally balanced meal that nourishes our family.
We take the time to carefully chop vegetables, and grill a beautiful piece of fish. Friend Democrat gave us the recipe! He’s such a great friend, always wanting to make our lives better.
Then Friend Democrat calls us on the phone at 6:30 pm, just as…
I grow up in Fredericksburg, Virginia, which in the 1970s feels like living in Confederate Disneyland.
Tourists flock to the area to look at empty battlefields where tens of thousands died in misery. There are Civil War reenactments; grown men dress up in uniforms and pretend to kill each other all over again. On Memorial Day, tiny Confederate flags decorate the graves in the Confederate Cemetery.
The war is still alive. Miss Edmo Lee, the great-niece of the Confederate general Robert E. Lee, comes by our house occasionally. Her brother Harry drives her. They go slowly around the circular drive…