Another One Bites The Dust

Ok, truth be told, I hate New Years Eve. I really do. The only good thing ever to come out of this day is that I met my husband on New Years Eve 1983. The following New Years we rang in at home in our first little house on Dunkeld Way as Mr and Mrs. D'Amico. We started our long tradition of just staying home on New Years.
I just always hated all the "what are you doing?" stuff. Why do you feel like a loser if you just want to stay home?
Anyway, for years we just stayed home and invited anyone over who didn't have babysitters to ring in the New Year with us. We always had a house full.

So Happy New Year to all of you.

Looking back at my blogging year, I started to wonder what my favorite post of the past year would be? I liked this one. Then I liked this one. And then there were the whole Sarah Palin series.My hatred for her fueled a few months of posts. So I guess they are like kids. You don't really have a favorite, but you like all of them the same for different reasons.

Any of you have a favorite? One that got your blood boiling? Made your heart melt? (I know, I usually have that affect on people) Let me know.

Momma's Boys

In my crazy family for some stupid reason, instead of taking individual pictures of each family we take only two pictures. One of all the boys and one of all the girls.

OK, here are the girls.

And here are the boys.

The moral of this picture story. Don't marry anyone in my family if you really, really have your heart set on having girls!
Here is the king of the boys. My father, in his Christmas throne. Hopefully the sisters will never see this picture. He has a can(gasp)of soda on the table. For shame. My father, always the rebel.

Hope you all had a Merry Christmas!
Boy, am I ever glad its over.

Yes Folks, There Really Ia A Santa Claus!

"DEAR EDITOR: I am 8 years old."Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus."Papa says, 'If you see it in THE SUN it's so.'"Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus?
"VIRGINIA O'HANLON."115 WEST NINETY-FIFTH STREET."

Virginia, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except [what] they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men's or children's, are little. In this great universe of ours man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect, as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.
Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! How dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The eternal light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.
Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies! You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas Eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if they did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that's no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.
You may tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived, could tear apart. Only faith, fancy, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.
No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives, and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay, ten times ten thousand years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.
— Courtesy Newseum.org

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I remember years ago, my sister-in-law told me she told her 5 Year old that there was no Santa because she didn't want her to be disappointed Christmas morning when she didn't get everything she asked for. I thought that was the saddest thing I had ever heard. I bought my niece a copy of the above editorial and told her to read it every Christmas Eve.My kids are 21 and 23. They will never hear me say there is no Santa!!!!!

It's all in the heart folks!

Have a Merry Christmas. I hope Santa is good to you all this year.

And remember, if you didn't get all that you asked for this Christmas, it's because Santa is a little hard of hearing and he probably didn't hear everything you said. Explanation courtesy of my Nana, (1903-1961) when her kids asked her why they only got an orange for Christmas.My 7 year old Uncle Paul's response: "God Damn Sonofabitch must have been stone deaf, I didn't get a damn thing I asked for!

TRUE STORY and has been retold by my father every Christmas since!

Have a Blessed Christmas and A Happy Hanukkah

......And May All Your Christmas' Be Bright!

Merry Christmas Everyone!

When It Comes Down To It, We're All Just A Bunch Of Jagg-Off's!

Before I get into this story, can I just say that I can parallel park like I've been driving for 30 years. But where I seem to have a problem is the easy, pull into a parking lot stuff that it becomes clear I've only been driving for 3 years. So they don't teach you how to pull into a parking lot in driving school, shoot me.

I'm fessing up here, just so you know. When you are looking for a parking space in a crowded lot, you know that asshole who takes up two or three spots? Yeah, that's me. Sorry. I don't mean it. Really, I don't. I don't know what it is. I just can't judge accurately.
But hey, you should see the itty-bitty spaces I get that big ass Escelade into on a city street. Unbelievable.
Lately I have been having car problems so I've been driving either a pick up truck or an Escalade. Hmm, this could easily be a metaphor for my life.
Anyway, this morning I had to drive into town to speak before City Council (Another story I'll tell you all about later, I promise).
So I parked in the Kaufman's lot. I checked my parking job before walking away. It wasn't perfect, but hey, it was one of my better ones. So I went on my merry way.

Imagine my surprise when I return an hour later to find the following note on my car. I am quoting here folks:

'Hey- Jagoff! You made it pretty hard for me to get into my car by the way you parked. Have a little consideration for other people!! Hope your kindness all comes back to you in spades!! (insert happy face)
Merry Christmas!'

Ok Bitch, those are fightin' words. I sure hope your reading. Merry Fuckin' Christmas to you too! Thanks for understanding. Jagg Off!

He's A Sole Man

So Dumbo is not insulted that an Iraqi reporter would throw a shoe at him. Shucks, how nice of him. He thinks the guy just wanted to get on tv or something.......Again, he just doesn't get it.
In their world it is considered a huge insult to hit someone with the sole of a shoe.
Dumbo, he wasn't trying to insult you, what he was trying to tell you is you were insulting him.
Geeze oh man, ya just don't get it and never will.
Late Edition:
You know, if people wonder why I am outraged, it's things like the following. I am sitting here watching TV and they are talking about the bank bail out. It seems Bush added one little sentence before signing it.
Part of the bill puts caps on golden parachutes. Great. But as usual, all is not what it seems. It seems our beloved (cough, cough) president added just one sentence before signing. The cap only pertains to banks that were sold at auction.
The problem. There were no banks sold at auction, making the ban on so called golden parachutes worthless. Thus protecting Dumbo's friends.
Unfuckingbelievable.

So do ya think he did it?????

My mother was crazy. Everyone knew it, including my friends. It's ok. I've come to terms with her stealing my thunder by being crazy. Not certifiable crazy, but funny crazy. Of the hundreds of people who knew her well, most all have a crazy Harriet Story.
It's weird being in college and laughing with your friends over stories about your mother.
Before those of you who didn't know her think maybe she was a crazy drunk or something, she was crazy naturally. The woman never drank in her life until about a month before she died. She had a glass of cheap pink and loved it. It was her 70th birthday.
Her funeral was an event. With nearly everyone who attended the viewing telling me their Harriet Stories. I counted around 1200 people who signed the book. So that's a hell of a lot of crazy episodes in ones life. I believed all of them. And me being her youngest child, let me tell ya,I have a truckload of them.
So I couldn't let events of the weekend go without comment.
I am going to come right out and say it for those of you who didn't know my mother.
My mother was the only while woman in America who honestly thought OJ was innocent.
I know, I know. Can you believe it?
She was totally consumed with it. She watched every hour of the hearings. I swear. Then at night she watched all the talk shows about it. Esp. Giraldo. Pronounced by my mother with a hard G and just like I spelled it.
All conversations during that time somehow made their way to OJ and her BFF Giraldo.
After a few months of this, we couldn't take it anymore. We had to tell her to shut up. Literally. She was not allowed to talk about it to any of her family. (except for poor Aunt Babe who was too polite to tell her to shut up)
If you knew my mother, that was no simple feat.
She would ask complete strangers if they thought OJ did it.

The most outrageous part of this whole story came when my mother and I went to visit my sister in Washington DC. The Madonna was getting her house painted by people from Guatemala or somewhere. Anyway, they couldn't speak English. When we first arrived, we were sitting in the dining room and my mother started her whole OJ thing. My sister and I both yelled NO, we are not talking about stupid OJ. So we went into the kitchen to start cooking dinner. My mother stayed sitting at the dining room table. We were in the kitchen about two minutes when we heard her whisper to the Guatemalans "Do you think OJ did it?"

I almost fell over. I was hysterical. We all just laughed and laughed. They didn't even speak God damn English for cryin out loud.

So for the rest of the week, while they were supposed to be painting my sisters house, my mother cooked them lunch everyday and made them watch OJ's trial with her.

Yes, she was crazy. There was no reasoning with her. She was such a headstrong woman (humph, can't imagine who that sounds like). There was no talking to her on this or anything else for that matter. I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree! She had opinions, strong opinions on just about everything.

Anyway, needless to say, I've been thinking about mom alot this past week. First because of OJ and second because her birthday is this weekend. Wonder what she would have to say about OJ now? I can only imagine, and I'm sure she would have told us!

Happy 79th Birthday Mom, Grammy, Auntie, Sissy, Har, Hat, Harriet!

This Thursday we are celebrating Mary's Birthday at her old haunt The Elbow Room.
See you all there.

December 7, 1941

A day that will live in infamy.
I was just watching the news and they were interviewing a few survivors from Pearl Harbor. One 80-something man was telling his account of what happened that day. He said when the bombs hit his ship, the USS Pennsylvania, he was knocked overboard. He went on to say that the kids on deck were picking up the kids floating wounded in the water. And he thanked God he was one of those kids. Kids, he said kids. That's what they were...... Kids. Amazing.

While my father wasn't in Pearl Harbor, he was one of the kids who joined a short time later. He just turned 17 and was loading bombs on planes in Italy. The other part of his job was unloading the dead bodies. It took him 50 some years to talk about it. God, I couldn't even imagining sending one of my sons off to war at 17. They couldn't even find their way home from Oakland when they were that age for Christ sake!

My mothers brother George missed Pearl Harbor by 4 days. He was discharged four days before the attack. He was stationed in Pearl Harbor. He came home and quickly went back. I can't remember the exact battles, but I know he was in Japan because he had this huge Japanese flag. My grandmother kept it in her cedar chest. My cousin Jeff and I would stay overnight pretty much every Friday when we were kids. When we got bored, we would go through her cedar chest. That flag always scared me to death. It was huge and had blood and bullet holes in it. My grandmother would always tease him and tell him that she washed it to get all the stains out of it. He would tell her "Mom, if you only knew what I went through to get that flag."
I never got a chance to ask what he went through because when he returned home after the war, he and his young wife bought a house on 43rd Street in Lawrenceville. They were home from the war for about 10 weeks when they both were killed from carbon monoxide poisoning. Apparently,they got a new furnace for their house the week before and I think there was a leak or something. Even though my mom and aunt told me hundreds of times, I can't remember details. I'm sure George, Danny, Jeff or The Madonna could fill in much more detail than I wrote here. Feel free to add your two cents.

I always thought that was so sad he survived the whole war and came home and was killed.
He was 24, same age as my "kid".
The Greatest Generation? No doubt about it.

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas......Ugh.....

So I figured I'd decorate my blog for the holidays..............can you tell I'm procrastinating yet again from doing what I'm supposed to be doing.....decorating my house.
Can't wait to take a new AMG picture this Saturday at Megs. The one on to the right is from last year.
Judi, hope you don't mind, I stole your Santa. The Ho's across it seemed pretty appropriate for this blog. Only joking girls.....

I purposely made it a little too busy in a tacky kind of way. Sort of like the Griswold's Christmas. Whadaya think? Personally, I think it needs more lights but I don't know how to do that. Judi, could you please put them on your blog so I can steal them for mine. Thank you.

Alrighty then, onto some rants that are taking up space in my brain.

How about this. Obama and Sarah Palin hold the number one and two spot on search engines for the year. Big difference in the two. People looked up Obama for information. They looked up Winky for verification that she really was as stupid as she sounded. I think half of the Sarah Palin hits were from me. Thank you. Yes folks, she really is as stupid as she sounds. Please, please check out my old friends Margaret and Helen. Gotta love them!

Target is planning to build a store in East Liberty. This dear people, is great news. Everything I need in life will be within a 10 block radius. Seriously. Whole Foods, Trader Joes, Borders, Walnut Street, Mardi Gras, Work,Church,hospitals and at least 30 bars and restaurants. And by living smack dab in the middle of the city, within walking distance. All of this and sidewalks too......I love it. No offense, but you couldn't give me a house in the suburbs. I love the city. But that's just me. To each his own--- It's the holiday season,see how nice I can be?

Speaking of the city, my annual trip to New York is coming up in a few weeks. Waldorf, here I come.

This evening I was watching KDKA news. They had on this whole segment about prescription labels. Dr. Maria, we are not this stupid. Who do you think you're talking to? No, were smarter than Sarah Palin. We know what "take with milk" means. It means take with milk. Dumb, dumb dumb. I turned the channel, again.

Last but not least, George Bush in a series of exit (thank God)interviews for ABC conceded that he was unprepared for war. "In other words, I didn't anticipate war," he said. Oh really now?????? That's the understatement of the century. Anyway, a good comedic read.

Did I forget anything? If I did, look out--I'll be back!

Next up---Christmas Stories.