The George Washington Memorial Parkway is a gorgeous road in Virginia that sidles up to the Potomac for nearly 30 miles. In some places, it’s open to views across the river into the District, allowing us glimpses of the Jefferson, Lincoln and Washington memorials. In some places, as in the stretch between Arlington and US 495 that connects Virginia to Maryland, it is tree-lined. Today I got to ride the tree-lined stretch.

It’s a perfect Fall day, crisp, bright sky, still and clear. The trees are bearing all their leaves. As in a box of bon bons, they snuggle together, a variety of trees nearly crushed up against one another, at attention, along this entire section of the road. No space between them. They look like ballerinas, plumped up in their puffy tutus, standing backstage with perfect posture, toes pointed just so, awaiting, anticipating their cue to enter. While they wait, the...

I had read nothing about this film before seeing it. That is my practice. I don’t like going to films, concerts, plays, whatever – with pre-set expectations or opinions. The film’s poster was certainly no draw: it is a clumsy, overdone, nearly monochromatic visual. And the very fact that it is a Disney film would certainly not draw me in.

What drew me in was the cast that featured Lupita Nyong’o and David Oyelowo. These actors, both of whom were lauded for their performances in “Twelve Years a Slave”, had me at…(to paraphrase the quote from Jerry McQuire), “…jambo.” (Sorry. Very corny, though appropriately colloquial Swahili.)

I went with my friend and primary movie partner, Jan. As we generally go to the movies during the day, and the earliest show at that, we often find ourselves alone in the theater. We’ve become accustomed to “private showings.” We sit high in the back. In the...

Johnny Carson used to joke that the 405 freeway is a parking lot going 70 miles an hour. To the uninitiated, it is all that and worse: when driving 70 miles an hour bumper to bumper on an unfamiliar road, one can barely if ever read the exit signs even if they are posted at a somewhat reasonable distance from the exit. If they ARE posted at a somewhat reasonable distance from the exit and if you CAN actually read the signs as you speed by, you then have the issue of getting from whichever lane you’re in, which is inevitably the far left lane, and making your way across 8 lanes of speeding traffic to the exit ramp. This can rarely, if ever, be accomplished. The reason commutes in LA are so long may well be because if you miss your exit, you have to travel an additional x-number of miles beyond the exit while trying to utz your way to the far right lane only to exit miles past your...

It has been said that Paul Simon is a genius. I’m willing to go with that, because he (and Garfunkel) are among my all time favorite musical artists, and if he is a genius, wouldn’t that reflect well on my musical tastes??!!!

I have seen Simon and Garfunkel perform twice, once in Central Park and once in Madison Square Garden at a fund-raising event called Together Again For McGovern. Performers who had “broken up” got back together again in support of their candidate: Paul and Arty, Mike Nicholas and Elaine May, The Kingston Trio, Peter, Paul & Mary. It was a fantastic evening of reunion and harmony.

Subsequently, I have seen Paul Simon perform solo twice, most recently at Constitution Hall here in the District.

One of my supreme Simon & Garfunkel moments occurred in a North Sea Flemish town in Belgium, Knokke. My then-husband, Burt, and I stayed at the Hotel Shakespeare, a little...

“Philadelphia”? Forget about it. From frame number 65 (which is about 2 ½ seconds into the film), I’m a mess. One of the all time highest rated films ever – in tissue rating terms.

Tissue rating goes like this:
“Gone With The Wind”: when I was 12 it got 20 tissues.
Now it gets none to 1.
“Sophie’s Choice”: the first time was about 30 tissues.
Now it’s about 25. SUCH a great movie. STILL such a great movie.
Streep and Kline? Come on… they’re unforgettable.
Harrowing storytelling. Exquisite hideosity.
Standing the test of time, tissue rating-wise.

No stars. Or tomatoes. Just tissues.

Jack Lemmon used to be the “everyman” of the acting world. (I often found him extremely annoying, but… he continued to act anyway.) Now, it’s Hanks. As a 21st century human, I understand that the “everyman” moniker in this day and age means that Tom can cry on cue. That’s not only endearing to...

I just heard a TV commercial that ended with a voice-over of a sweet male child asking, “Mom, have you seen my iguana?”

Yes, that would give one pause. Worse might be “…snake?” (or any reptile, actually), or “…black widow spider?” (or any arachnid), or “…Saber Toothed Tiger?” But “…iguana?” was scary enough to get me to look up from my email answering/writing to glance at the TV. I was too late. I didn’t see the closing logo, if there was one. And if there were any further words after
“…iguana?” I don’t know what they were. In other words – I have no idea what the ad was for. Insurance? Pharma? Certainly not the 3rd of the big 4 things advertised on TV these days – food. [The 4th is vehicles, and as far as I know, iguana is not the latest transportation mode. City Cars are quite enough.] (BTW – I had a ride in a Smart Fortwo this week. Surprisingly roomy passenger seat, although there...

Soft wafting breeze
Cotillion. As in days when
dresses were called frocks

Sorting through my files I discovered that a year before I actually started my blog, I planned to start a blog. The following is what I wrote at that time, but never published until now:

I was born young.
My parents were Freda and Bernard Young.
(Such pathetic double entendres and puns come with the territory of being a Young.) Wanting my initials to be an acronym that would become my nickname, they named me Janice Andrea Young: ergo, Jay. Mother always wrote my name as initials: “J. A. Y.” and not as a name, “Jay”.
Daddy usually called me Janny, so I don’t know why they bothered to do all that planning.
Oh, those crazy kids.

As is the norm, I was born chronologically young.
As it turns out, I was also born forever young.
I am fond of saying that the reason for my youthful approach to life is that I am “remarkably immature.” Of course I don’t believe that. Quite the opposite. I...

I have finally admitted to myself that Pierce Brosnan is never going to tell me that I am the love of his life. Is never going to get down on one knee and ask me to marry him: “Come on, say yes. It’s only for the rest of your life.”
Of course Meryl Streep said yes in the movie. She’s brilliant.

The truth of this realization caused me to sob into my hands.
Then I vacuumed.

Not what I usually do on Sunday mornings, but it was 95° and rising – as it has been for many days – and I was maybe a bit touched by the heat. I have been using this heat wave to experience how summer used to feel when I was a kid. AND to give myself a bit of a sauna experience and sweat out the impurities and perhaps shed some weight? We’ll see about that part.

The point is that I haven’t turned on my A/C for weeks. I am in dispute with the power company and want to see what kind of a bill I get now that I...

My father’s last cogent words to me were: “We must forgive other people their foibles.”

It was the Sunday after Thanksgiving, November 27, 1994. Jesse and I were about to leave for Newark Airport to return to our home in Portland, OR. Mother, Daddy and I were standing in the hall outside their den in Piscataway, NJ, saying our good-byes.

I said to Daddy, “You never know when will be the last time you see someone.” He died five days later.

I needle-pointed his last words but never framed the little piece of handwork, or made it into a pillow. I put the piece in a collage once, but tore it out. It didn’t seem right to assign it to a place among other detritus.
After all, these were my father’s last words. Didn’t they deserve something better than being glued to a board?

So they lie in a drawer in my flat file, along with other things that I once made, evidence of past efforts, such as...