Mother’s Day 2013: Year three without Mom.
All of those Hallmark, Macy’s and Flower commercials are enough to make me hurl my new wedges at our flat screen!

Just like dear ol’ Charlie Brown says about Christmas cards, “I almost wish there weren’t a holiday season. I know nobody likes me. Why do we have to have a holiday season to emphasize it?” You get my drift.

Yeah, I miss Mom on a daily basis, and the sense of loss can get a bit overwhelming when you see and hear phrases like:
“Mom will love this” or “Treat Mom on her special day”, blah blah blah…

Normally, I have a pretty playful, lively disposition, but at the same time, my soul carries around a sense of profound loss like a heavy black burqa, one that cannot be so easily peeled off.

With that said, (and you should know by now this blog is pretty cathartic for me) for today, I’ll strip off my shroud and enjoy the family I have here to love and enjoy spending earthly time with.

So, Happy Mother’s Day Mom, wherever you are — and to all Moms out there in computerland, hug your kids no matter how old they are, tell them you love them and enjoy the day!

Photo Notes: Top pic, I was in mom’s belly. Photo #2 is one of my faves of Mom in Ocean City, NJ. I wrote a post about this special spot called EMPTY BENCH.

Don’t you just love when cherished sayings and memories swirl through your head and say HELLO like those cute dancing candies from vintage drive-in movie ads?

The “pull down your pants” saying was one of those humorous little gems mom would share every once-in-awhile — which I have fond memories of now — so when I found the video clip from M*A*S*H it was like striking gold!

So here it is – enjoy, and please let me know if you’ve ever heard of this before, I’d love to know!

THIS JUST IN: Rest in Peace Allan Arbus, known to many of us at the psychiatrist Maj. Sidney Freedman from M*A*S*H (As seen in this clip above) passed away at age 95. Story HERE.

Call Doctor McDreamy, because I’ve caught SPRING FEVER!
Wow, what a gorgeous couple of sunny, warm, breezy summer-like days we’ve had here in the city, so in keeping with the simpler things — and having time to venture outside and smell the hyacinths — I thought I’d offer up a quickie! Quickie Italian lesson that is, so get your mind out of the gutter and let’s go!

Spring = la primavera.

Now, I’ll bet you a chocolate-covered cannoli you’ve uttered these words while ordering a delicioso pasta primavera — a light dish of pasta and fresh vegetables — at an Italian restaurant (and NO, The Olive Garden does NOT count as an Italian Restaurant, but I’m pretty positive you already know that).

Since we’re on a roll here, let’s continue with the other three seasons and the months of the year.
Note: The names of the months (i mesi) are not capitalized in Italian.

Summer – l’estate
Autumn -l’autunno
Winter – l’inverno

January – gennaio
February – febbraio
March – marzo
April – aprile
May – maggio
June – giugno
July – luglio
August – agosto
September – settembre
October – ottobre
November – novembre
December – dicembre (pronounced ‘dee-CHEHM-bray’, just so fun to say, isn’t it?)

Why not keep this quickie going — here are the days of the Week
The days of the week (i giorni della settimana) are also not capitalized
Monday – lunedì
Tuesday – martedì
Wednesday – mercoledì
Thursday – giovedì
Friday – venerdì
Saturday – sabato
Sunday – domenica

HINT: Try turning on your “ITALIAN MODE” — it helps with your accent!

YOUR TURN: Please share with your favorite thing about SPRING — Bonus points for also sharing your favorite month!

love this art from http://decalpery.deviantart.com/

If you’ve ever read my Madness snippets, you know I’m not much of a curmudgeon, nor do I play one on TV. Yeah, maybe I’m a bit jaded/irreverent from time to time, but I’m usually a “live and let live” type of gal (unless you f*&# with my dogs or my family), then the crazy comes out to play).

So, why do I think everything sucks these days? Well, maybe not EVERYTHING, but I’ve noticed that everything messed with usually ends up messed up.

ITALIAN LESSON: shitty = merdoso

Hollywood has tarnished countless perfectly fine TV shows and movies with their ridiculous remakes, turning them into caricatures of themselves. Don’t even get me started on cereals and candy, because they’ve all been botched up big time with garbage chemicals, corn syrup and some crazy food colorings that would even make a 60s hippie cringe.

You’d think a great game could simply remain just that too, but no. Take a look at Candy Land — this one really bugs me. As a kid, I could imagine myself strolling through the scrumptious path of sweet deliciousness, so eager to get to those mouth-watering Neapolitan ice cream bars floating near the top of the board. If you look at the game now, it features a totally pimped out “King” peddling his sh!tty candy on a game board that looks like something the Willie Wonka candy factory threw up!

As I finish up writing this post, I’m beginning to feel like one of the most famous curmudgeons, Andy Rooney. I think I better run and check my eyebrows.

Your turn to channel your inner crank and bellyache with me. Tell me about the things that changed in your world that bug you ~ thanks!

♪♫•*♥ “You Don’t Have To Be Italian” by Pat Cooper (aka Pasquale Caputo)

is one of my all-time favorite Italian-themed songs. If you’re not yet acquainted with Pasquale you can meet him at Getting Saucy with Pasquale Caputo.

I love it, but whenever I listen I’m sure to have the tissues ready. I tear up, sometimes even blubber a bit, as the song instantly transports me back a few decades. Even though it’s a happy place I end up, it makes me realize how fast life goes by, and how many precious memories I have stored in the vault between my ears.

So here I am, zapped back to our cozy wood-paneled living room at our Lehigh Street duplex in Dover, NJ. Mom and dad are hanging out on a chilly winter’s night listening to a few Pat Cooper comedy albums, and Dad takes Mom’s hand for a little twirl around the braided rug when this tune comes on. Even better, I know it was one of their favorites too.

It’s really about the little things in life, isn’t it?

What songs or comedians bring you back? I’d love to hear about them, so don’t be shy, please share!

p.s. If you cannot see the SONG PLAY link above, just click HERE.

Yesterday I was reading about personality traits of snakes. No, not the slithery, jaw unhinging, swallow-a-possum-whole kind, but the Chinese astrology symbol for 2013 — the “Year of the Snake” kind.

My dad was born in 1929, so he falls into the snake pit, so to speak. The snake is described as a somewhat jealous creature — a characteristic rarely exhibited by Dad — and reading about it brought to mind a story Mom shared with me quite a few times. This one was short, sweet and always amused me, so I thought I’d share it today.

When Mom was twenty (about a year after she married Dad, and two years before I came along) she was selected to model the hot new collection of bikinis for a local department store fashion show. Mom was suiting up backstage, making herself runway ready with all the other female models. As the show was about to begin, Dad, suddenly possessed by old-fashioned Italian virtue, sprung from the sidelines and implored his young bride to skip the show.

(ITALIAN LESSON: Jealous – Geloso)

The audience was mostly women, but for some reason the green-eyed monster made a cameo that day, and that little monster didn’t want all eyes ogling Mom’s goodies! Mom left showbiz that day, but as you can see in this photo of her getting creative with Dad’s bandannas, she would’ve been a knockout on that catwalk!

So, what makes YOUR green-eyed monster come out to play?
Please share in the comments section!

Some precious objects we own and adore, break. Family heirlooms can be destroyed by a hurricane, pipes can burst (been there, done that) and horrid fire damage can break you into a million pieces just thinking about beloved possessions lost.

Ever since I was crawling around on the floor as a little one, I remember Dad having this bull on his dresser. Dad was a Taurus, and I believe Mom bought it for him as a birthday gift after I was born. (Mr. Bull’s close up below.)

At night, the bull had the task of keeping Dad’s wallet tucked in its back, and Dad’s watch perched around its horns. He always did a fine job, that little bull, and I was always fascinated with it for some reason.

(ITALIAN LESSON: Bull = Toro)

Fast forward a few decades when Mom & Dad were having some financial issues (caused by a certain family member, a.k.a. “user” who shall remain nameless), and had to put many of their belongings in storage between moving to a new house. Ok, so far, it sounds like something many may have had to struggle with. Only it gets bumped up a notch, since this “user” never paid the storage fees as he was supposed to, and my parents had their heads in the sand, and the place ended up being bulldozed to make way for another dreaded mini-mall.

Dad’s bull, along with thick photo albums, keepsakes, tons of loose family photos, my Grandmother’s china from Sicily, a few fine antiques, and my father’s “famous” Knights-of-Columbus gear — all swept away in an afternoon, or most likely sold to some vultures at auction. I know Mom had a hard time telling me about this, because she knows I’m a very sentimental person.

Ok, I better stop here, because it’s a very sore spot for me, and you know what I am capable of (referencing Shaken Laptop Syndrome.) I can’t even bring myself to ever watch Storage Wars, because I find myself getting sad, angry and overwhelmed.

You may wonder how I have this bull photographed. Well, I hunted one down and found him — the exact one, GRAZIE EBay! I’ll just keep pretending it is Dad’s. ♥

Please tell me about something cherished you may have lost, or rediscovered — I’d love to hear about it!