The view from up here. . .

In my mind, I've never been short. Actually, I've always seen myself as tall, blonde and blue-eyed. Why are you who know me laughing????

In reality, I achieved my final height of exactly 5' at the age of 16. This was no big surprise since both my father and mother, in true Ashkenazi heritage, were both very short. My sister Fran towered over us at 5'3". Never could figure out how that happened.

I mention this because photos taken over the past 15 years with the "significant other" and his family all look like I am standing in a deep hole. At 84, Benard has "shrunk" to 6'1". Son Leon, who is currently visiting, is at least 6'2", and son Jack is like 6'3". Even most of the grandkids are 6 footers so you get the picture.

At my current height of 4'11" (I've written in the past of the trauma I experienced when I first learned that I had descended an inch into near-gnomehood), photographs taken with normal height people have become downright embarassing. That's why the sheer brilliance of the photo posted here today made me decide to share it with all of you.

Finally! A photo where I am on level ground (well, maybe not ground exactly) with everyone else. In fact, I may even be an inch or two taller. A moment to remember. That's Benard on the left and Leon on the right, taken after lunch at a delightful outdoor restaurant by their Cousin Iris (also tall).

From now on, I'm considering carrying a small collapsible bench with me to all potential photo shoots. I always knew I was meant to be tall. It just took a while to figure out how.

Something to think about. . . .

A few years ago, the sportswriter and author, Mitch Albom, wrote a book titled "One More Day". The book's theme posits "If you had the opportunity to spend one more day with a lost loved one, who would you choose?"

That thought comes to mind every time I return from my Wednesday morning art class. I never fail to wish I could have one more conversation with my Mother.

Mother took up painting at age 70 and turned out to be an extremely talented artist. We all thought it was remarkable for her to start something new "at such an advanced age". That makes me smile since I've been painting for less than two years and obviously started a good bit older. 70 is just a little kid from my vantage point.

But back to the conversation I would give anything to have with her. Although everyone in the family was happy to snatch up her paintings the minute she finished one.. .I have two hanging in my home, my sister Fran has several more. . .none of us ever took the time to ask her about her art, how and why she chose her specific genre, how she developed her technique and how she got so good with so little instruction.

Mother's paintings are all fairly large and highly detailed. I paint with broad strokes because I'm always in a hurry. (Take a look at the two paintings I've posted. . pretty easy to see who did what, isn't it?)

That's another thing I'd like to ask her about . . .how did she manage to paint such minute details and did she enjoy doing it. I've tried, but I just don't have the patience, or I guess, the talent. I tend to start and finish a painting in one session, although I am trying to learn to slow down. I realize now that hers must have taken weeks to complete. In retrospect, I am appalled at how little I really knew about this woman I called Mother.

I guess the point of this blog is that we don't always take the opportunity to have conversations with people we love before it's too late. I'm pretty sure each of you would like "one more day" with someone who was important in your life.

Think about it.
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It's Super Bowl time. . .

Gee, it's Super Bowl weekend. Guess where we will be on Sunday afternoon. In front of the TV, but to tell you the truth, I don't have a preference between Green Bay and the Steelers. Maybe I'll root for the Packers because Ben Rothlisberger is such a jerk. I'll have to think about it when the game starts.

I miss the good old days when the Dolphins gave us a run for our money and actually went to the Super Bowl. Our family had season tickets from the first game the team ever played, back when the only place to go was the old Orange Bowl. The bathrooms were terrible, parking was impossible and the seats were hard wood benches, but the atmosphere was electric and we never missed a game.

My grandson Adam was born in late November of 1978, at the height of the football season. His Mom and Dad attended all the games with us in those days, right up to the Sunday game two days before he was born. The late stage of pregnancy was no reason to miss an important game. No wonder the kid grew up loving sports.

I remember one exciting game when the Dolphins were behind, time was running out, and the offense had suddenly come alive and was moving down the field. A few rows down from where we were seated a man suffered a heart attack and the EMT's were treating him in his seat, obscuring the view of the action on the field for those sitting in the rows behind. I'm ashamed to say that everyone started yelling "Down in front, down in front" to the non-plussed emergency workers. That's the kind of crazy fans we were in those days.

In the Dolphins' glory days, my pr firm was representing the South Florida Auto Show. One of the best attended evening was always "Miami Dolphin Night" when it was my job to hire the most popular players to meet and greet people attending the show. It was also my job to think up crazy promotions, one of which was "Miss Hood Ornament", a sexy blonde that we had photographed with the players holding her extended over the hood of a car. Don't laugh, it got great press coverage and the players loved it.

The players in the photo above will only look familiar to died-in-the-wool Miami fans, but in their day, you would have known them immediately. Left to right, Tim Foley, Manny Fernandez, Jim Kiick and the one-and-only Larry Csonka. That's Miss Auto Show in the middle and a much younger (and thinner) Joan on the right holding the football.

Wow! Did I ever really look like that?????
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Run, Craig, Run. . .

The ING MIAMI Marathon was run this morning. 21,000 elite and "wannabe" runners started out in downtown Miami at 6:30am on a perfect running day with the temperature in the low 50's and the sun shining overhead.

21 miles later, I was out on Bayshore Drive in Coconut Grove, marveling at the elite class runners who glided by early on and anxiously watching my wristwatch to determine when I would get a glimpse of my sister's oldest grandson and my grandnephew, Craig, coming down the road. He was due somewhere between 9 and 9:30 according to the e-mail he sent me yesterday. I had my cellphone camera ready, my freshly painted "Go Craig!" sign propped up against my leg.

It was deja vu all over again as I flashed on a long ago New York Marathon. I am standing on the sidewalk at 2nd Avenue and 59th Street, 17 miles into the race, waiting for Craig's dad, my favorite nephew Bobby, to come running off the 59th Street Bridge on his way to the finish line at Central Park. Nine of our friends, including my ex, were also running that day. I was serving as their cheering section. For my non-runner readers, a marathon is 26.3 very, very, long miles.

Don't want to upset you, Bobby, but your son looked a helluva lot better at 21 miles this morning than you looked that day at 17. But you both finished, and that's what really counts about running a marathon. I know. I used to be a runner, myself, and finished a half marathon, 13.1 miles, so I have the greatest respect for those out there who are still running some five hours after they started out.

Once I got back home this morning, I couldn't wait to post the photo I took of Craig on my Facebook page. (See photo above. It's a little dark because the sun was behind him.) A few minutes later, a second picture popped up on the page. This one from Craig's wife, Ana. It was a picture he had taken of me, on the run, with his cell phone, as I was taking his. Isn't technology awesome?????

I'm a walker these days, no longer a runner. When I called Bobby to give him an update on his son, he reminded me that the first race we ran in together was a 10k on Thanksgiving weekend, called the North Miami Turkey Trot. That was a mere 40 years ago, but I remember it well.

Congrats, Craig. Your great-aunt is really proud of you. You go, boy.

Oh how I wish I had my camera with me this morning. Here's the picture I would have taken.

Driving home through Coconut Grove, as I waited for the traffic light to change, I found myself staring at a sight from days gone by. . a mounted policeman. Except this officer of the law, astride his elegant, coal black horse, wasn't leading a parade or even directing traffic. He was trotting down the street busily talking on his cell phone.

The juxtaposition of the classic horse and modern technology struck me as a powerful metaphor for the crazy world we live in.

What made me smile was the fact that if the light hadn't changed, I probably would have whipped out my own cell phone and taken a picture of the policeman talking on his. Then I would have forwarded the photo with a few clicks to several friends. Maybe even posted it on YouTube. Geez, if I know how to do something like that at my age, can you imagine what the kids are capable of these days?

I am constantly amazed at the amount of electronics that have entered my life. Just this afternoon I found myself explaining to the significant other how to set up his expenses on Excel. He loved the idea you can add the columns with one click, especially since he's been doing his own spread sheets by hand for umpteen years. I am a notably poor adder, so having the computer do it for me is a real plus.

The Today Show recently did a segment on a family that went without all electronics in their home for six months (They could use them at school and at work.) I trust they were paid well for the experiment, because a half year without tv, computer, or cellphone. . that also precludes Netflix and the LA Times crossword-puzzle-on-line, I presume. . .doesn't sound like much fun to me.

I have to go now. My cell phone just beeped to tell me that one of the four strangers I am simultaneously playing Scrabble with, has completed their move. This guy has an interesting vocabulary. The last round he posted the word "feces". I can't wait to see what he comes up with next.

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I have a word for you. . .

The "significant other" and I were watching the debacle known as the Sun Bowl when he noted that I was spending more time staring at my cell phone than watching Notre Dame decimate our University of Miami Hurricanes.

"What are you staring at?" he asked, a bit petulantly. "I'm playing Scrabble," I had to admit. "That sound you just heard was my cell telling me one of the unknown people I am play against just added a word."

I blame this new addiction on my friend Merele who introduced me to playing the word game on my cell. Unfortunately, I can't (so far) play with her, because she has a sophisticated iPhone and I am playing on a lowly Sprint Hero. Her version of the game is not one of the apps on my phone, so I play something called WordFeud with three or four strangers at a time.

Currently, I am playing against Townee, Alanda and Angelswhisper. Townee is killing me at 324 to 265, and I am destroying Angelswhisper with my latest entry of the word YONDER which conveniently covered triple letter and double word spaces and gave me 45points! (See photo above.) Wow! What a way to start the New Year. (Alanda takes ages to respond so I've just about given up on her/him.)

I always wondered what kids and young adults were staring at when you would see them peering at thir cell phones. I figured they were texting or tweeting. I didn't realize a lot of them were playing games. I'm not sure how many octogenarians are downloading apps to their cell phones, but I have to admit I also play Solitaire on a regular basis and just this morning discovered an app for Blackjack. There's no question. I'm hooked.

Anyone out there with WordFeud on their cells, I'd love to play with you. Words are my business and I warn you, I'm a tough opponent and I'm here to play. Anyone?????

I was watching the final edition of the Larry King Show on CNN and feeling nostalgic. I met Larry for the first time when he was hosting "Breakfast at Pumperniks", his first radio interview show, on Miami Beach. That was back in the late 50's and in my new role as owner of my own pr firm,I represented hotels,nightclubs and restaurants. That's all that really was available on the Beach in those days.

Larry was set up in a booth at Pumperniks, on the corner of Collins Avenue and 74th Street, for those of you who know Miami Beach. Pumperniks was a popular deli/restaurant frequented by everyone, particularly entertainers appearing at the various hotels. I spent a lot of time shuttling the famous and not so famous to be interviewed by him there and a few years later when he moved up in the radio world to a mid-nite to 2am interview show on WIOD. Miami Beach was a late night town in those days and nobody seemed to mind showing up at mid-nite and talking for an hour or two. Even at that hour, he had a huge listener audience. Come to think of it, I was a lot younger and thought nothing of being out until all hours of the morning. Wow, has that changed.

What always fascinated me about Larry was the fact that once he ok'd one of my clients to appear on the show, he never wanted any advance information other than how to pronounce their name correctly and what was I "pushing" pr-wise that I wanted him to mention on air. Usually the name of the hotel, theatre or nightclub that I represented where the interviewee was staying or appearing. He was always great about that, and believe me, it was much appreciated. I once had a reporter do a front page story in the Miami Herald that I had gone to a lot of trouble to set up, and he neglected to mention the name of the hotel where the event occured. Needless to say, my client, the owner of the hotel, was mightily pissed and I was ready to kill myself for all the wasted work.

In the mid-60s, Larry became our neighbor on Keystone Islands. His house backed up to our side yard. We had first hand knowledge of his numerous marriages and live-in girlfriends via the kids in the neighborhood. I can remember Andrea, at 10 or 12, coming home from playing outside, to offhandedly remark at dinner that "there's a new set of kids at the King house."

The other thing about Larry that I always found interesting was that while he was an incredibly good interviewer while he was on air, the moment the commercial break would come on, he would ignore the celebrity and turn to me to discuss the latest Miami Dolphin game. An avid Dolphin fan, he knew we had season tickets and was much more interested in discussing my thoughts on Sunday's game than anything the non-plused celebrity had to say.

Yes, he wore the horn rimmed glasses and the suspenders, even then. I've marveled at his meteoric rises and catastrophic falls over the years. I knew him before his gravy years with CNN, but you always knew he was something special.

Interesting memories. I think I may e-mail him and wish him well.