Internet - 1, Joan - 0

There is nothing so humbling as a computer that refuses to do what you instruct it to do.

I guess I am a victim of th generation gap, even if I try not to be. My experience this week with trying to rid myself of AOL and changing over to gmail.com has revealed a definite gap. . call it an abyss. . in my technological rapport. My grandson would be ashamed of me, but yesterday I cried "Uncle" and begged Jose, my tech guy, to give me back my old Desktop and my old accounts.

My moment of truth came when I realized that the changeover had lost my address books, or at the least, I could no longer locate them. That included my "blog friends" list . . .that's all you guys. . .and my business list that I needed to support my website. That made me more than a little frantic since I was in the middle of writing a website for a new client.

In trying to get back my address books, I managed to somehow erase the tool bar on my Explorer website so that I could no long interact with my Morgan Stanley portfolio or my Bank of America account, making it impossible for me to pay my bills on line.

In retrospect, the message I left on Jose's phone was pretty pathetic. Basically, I begged him to put me back in my comfort zone. Obviously, he answered my call, because here I am.

I know. I know. Having AOL dates me. So be it. Call me dated. I'm a happy camper once again and I don't think I'll be making any changes in the near future, so no nasty comments please.

Have some respect for my advanced age! (OMG! Did I just say that???)
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A different kind of Tweet

The president of the Tropical Audubon Society took me for a bird walk yesterday. It was a fascinating three hour exercise in patience and leg strength.

Once a year the Society offers Fairchild Tropical Botanic Garden volunteers their own opportunity to travel the Garden's Kushlan Bird Trail under the guidance of its president, Joe Barros. Saturday was a decidedly overcast day with lots of rain on the radar, so when I turned up at the designated time of 8am, I was joined by only three other volunteers and Stephanie Bott, the staff person in charge of volunteers.

Joe Barros describes himself as an ardent, even obsessed, "birder". In his other life he is a practicing dentist, but on this morning he is in full "birder" mode, equipped with high powered binoculars and an iPhone app that provides us with instant close ups of the birds we are looking for as well as the sounds of their tweets.

Joe is a master at "phishing". . .the art of making weird sounds that immitate bird calls and attract the real thing to respond in kind. Although the Kushlan Bird Trail has a definite route that people are supposed to follow, Joe doesn't believe the birds always agree with the map. So we find ourselves slogging through the muddy undergrowth of the area known as the Keys Habitat and crisscrossing the Lowlands to inaccessible spots where various species of birds are known to hang out.

The last time I went bird watching was in Africa with my then 9-year old grandson. (Adam recently turned 33, so you get the picture that I might be a little rusty in this department.) Either my binoculars were stronger then, or my vision isn't quite so sharp, but I did manage to spot and focus on an amazing variety of avian life, including my beloved anhinga that I just finished painting in my art class. (See attached photos.)

Volunteering at Fairchild continues to open new areas of interest for me. I reccommend it highly. I have to go out on my 7th floor balcony now and tell that feathered creature sitting on my railing. .the one that likes to scare my cats. . . that he isn't just any old bird, he's actually a fish crow, native to Florida.

I wonder if he knows that.
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I was a teen-ager with America's oldest teen-ager

I just returned from five days in New York City. Coincidentally, I was meeting my friend Judy at MOMA on Thursday, when I picked up a copy of USA Today and learned that Dick Clark had died. I say coincidentally because Judy and I were teen-agers with a truly teen-age Dick Clark in our hometown of Mount Vernon, New York.

Now that I am back home in Miami, I am sitting at my desk with my high school yearbook, it's cover emblazoned with "Maroon & White - 1947". Those were A.B. Davis High's school colors, and that was the year Judy, Dick Clark and I graduated. There are lots of pictures of a teen-age Dick in my yearbook because he was a mover and shaker even then. The attached is actually his yearbook photo.

Dick was president of my graduating class, and voted, according to an article in the New York Times, "Most likely to sell the Brooklyn Bridge". I remember him best as Head Cheerleader at a time when Judy and I were both baton twirlers at football games and band parades. Our friends, the identical Sonnenblick twins, Jean & Muriel, waved maroon and white banners. Sounds corny today, but in Mt. Vernon, in the mid-40's, it was considered very desirable to be any of the above.

Dick lived in an apartment complex called Park Lane, a block north of my apartment home at 531 E. Lincoln Ave. I tell you that because Judy and I walked several miles each morning to high school, toting our notebooks and school books on one hip, talking for the most part about boys, boys boys. Deep we weren't. Inevitably, Dick Clark and his best friend, Andy Grass, would be walking in front of us, taking the same early morning trek. Cool kids walked. Nerds took the bus. We considered ourselves very cool although I don't think that designation had come into popular usage yet.

Years later, when Dick became a celebrity with his American Bandstand and went on to become a titan in the music and entertainment industry, I often mused about how we never would have guessed that that nice guy we said hello to every morning and was part of our everyday world, would someday become "The Dick Clark" the whole world knew and admired.

Gee, had I not been so busy talking to Judy, I might have thought about dating Dick instead of just smiling and passing him by. A missed opportunity, to be sure. I see by the Times article he had three wives and I've had two husbands, so I don't think I'll worry about it. But it did make me sad to hear of his passing.

A busy morning at WLRN. . .

The "significant other" and I manned the check-in desk at WLRN Public Radio & Television this morning. We were there to welcome distinguished guests and about 150 youngsters from the Primary Learning Center, a Dade County-sponsored school for Pre-K, K and First Grade kids from the surrounding neighborhood of the Downtown Miami studio.

They were here to participate in the "Premier" of ENERTIPS, a new WLRN original TV series that educates kids about caring for the environment.

Among the distinguished guests we welcomed: Alberto Carvalho, the new Superintendent of Miami Dade County Schools, Dr. Lawrence Feldman, the Chairman of the School Board, and an assortment of young actors who are the voices of the animated characters in the TV program.

To add to the excitement, volunteers passed out plastic bags of popcorn and some kind of drink to the kids as they settled down on the floor of the TV studio to watch the film. I found myself sitting next to the actor who voiced Matthew Handy, the film's main character. He's the one who singlehandedly saves the Town of Tipsville from the evil Mr. Backhand and his plan to abuse energy and the environment. At the conclusion of rhe film, I complimented him on being the "good guy". He seemed pleased.

Benard and I both love WLRN and are quick to say yes when Ulie, the head of Volunteers, calls on us for various jobs. The station just went through it's annual fund drive, an extremely important means of keeping public radio and TV on the air with State budgets cut to a bare minimum these days.

While we are both regular members of the station, I must admit I made an additional small pledge on the day it qualified you to enter a drawing to win an overnight visit at the Great Ape Rescue Center near Tampa. While the Center is not open to the public, the winner gets to stay overnight in a cabin within the grounds and also gets a personal tour and introduction to the resident apes. Benard is not as thrilled as I am about the possibility of living with simians for forty eight hours. I, on the other hand, am keeping my fingers crossed, just waiting to hear my name called.

That would make a helluva blog, don't you agree????
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My Marilyn Moment. . ..

Seems like Marilyn Monroe is hot news again, with a new movie about her coming out and the hit TV show "Smash" doing a takeoff on the legendary sex symbol.

All the chatter reminded me of my "Marilyn Moment". It happened in June of 1952 and I was, for the moment, a stay-at-home Mom with a three month old baby girl named Andrea Jean. Her dad (and my first husband) was working in the music business as an advance man for the Ray Anthony Orchestra. On that June day, he was in California to help promote the band's newest recording titled "Marilyn", in honor of you know who.

Herewith, the phone conversation as best I remember it.

Husband: "Joan. . you need to come out to California and run a party for Ray at his house in the Valley.

Joan: "What am I supposed to do with the baby. . and by the way, what kind of a party are you talking about?

Husband: The party is for Marilyn Monroe. . she's coming with Joe DiMaggio. Don't ask questions. Just get on a plane and come out here.

I'm sure there was more conversation than that, but that's pretty much what I remember. I also remember that our bank account in those days didn't allow for me to fly TWA to the West Coast as he had on the band's money. So I flew "The Flying Irishman Airlines", a wannabe airline that sprang up after World War 2 and disappeared shortly afterwards. Suffice to say, I was the only passenger on the 10-hour plane ride wearing white gloves and carrying a suitcase that wasn't held together with a rope.

In later life as a pr maven, I would plan and execute many parties and special events for clients, without a moment's nervousness. In 1952, I was a true neophyte in the business of party planning, but plan I did, with no time for nervousness. Right down to finding a florist to create a flower-covered float for the swimming pool that spelled out MARILYN in capital letters. Ray Anthony's wife, a confirmed alcoholic, took care of ordering the liquor.

Marilyn and Joe arrived by helicopter. . setting down on the spacious lawn of the home. She stepped out looking absolutely gorgeous, wearing a skin tight red satin cocktail dress that was obviously sans any sign of underwear. As a matter of fact, as I looked around at the guests in attendance, I was pretty sure I was the only female at the party wearing underwear. I was also the only one wearing crinolines under my demurely full skirted dress that I had borrowed from my sister for the occasion. It would have been a smash at a party in Mt. Vernon, NY, where I came from, but not quite de rigeur in Hollywood, California.

The party was a huge success, and the ex went on to be a big man in the music business, but that's another story. Marilyn was not only beautiful, but sweet and charming that day. I don't remember how well the record did, but it was a learning experience about being resourceful that served me well in the following years.

By the way. . Ray thanked me by flying me home on a real airline. I think I would have walked if he hadn't.
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I'm feeling "quotable". . .

In my 50 year career as a pr person, I've written literally hundreds of press releases filled with "quotes" attributed to clients that were strictly made up by me. But I don't remember ever quoting myself.

That's what made the arrival of an e-mail yesterday such an unexpected treat. It started out this way:

Hi Joan! My name is Jake, and I'm contacting you on behalf of Fancy Feast.

We are very excited to announce the newest Elegant Medleys entree inspired by your "Purrrfect Sushi" recipe! Below, I've attached a press release that we plan to use to announce the new product. Within the release, there are a few quotes on your behalf. We'd like to have your approval to use these quotes before issuing the release. At your earliest convenience, can you please confirm that we are allowed to use the quotes?

Also, we'd like to send you a few samples of the new entree for Ginger and Wasabi to enjoy. Should I have them shipped to following address?

My response was Yes! Yes! and Yes! In fact, I e-mailed this Jake person back that I couldn't have written the quotes better if I had written them myself. Will the riches from this crazy win never cease???

On the basis that I might be on a roll, luckwise, I ran out and bought a lottery ticket. The jackpot is up to a nice round $40 million, but I'll bite the bullet and settle for a lump sum settlement of quite a bit less.

According to the Herald this morning, I didn't have even one matching number. Apparently, cat food isn't catching.
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Photo caption: Fancy Feast: The gift that keeps on giving.

Make way, Top Chef. . .there's a new kid on the block!

I know I've been blog-silent for over a month, but that's because I've been busy honing my non-existent kitchen skills, due to the fact that daughter Andrea is convalescing here in my apartment.

As most of you know, either from personal experience or from past blogs, I haven't actually cooked a meal in 17 years, dating back from when I first met the "significant other". Prior to that date I was every take-out place's best customer. That is, if I wasn't eating in a restaurant with (take your pick) husband/friend/date/business associate. In other words, cooking was never my thing, whether married or unmarried.

Revisiting my kitchen has been a interesting experience. I am adept at making my morning coffee and when absolutely necessary, applying heat in the microwave. That's about it. Nowadays I can broil a pork chop, blend up a protein shake and fry an egg with aplomb. . .once I remembered where the frying pan was located, that is, not to mention how to turn on my fancy stove with its convection oven and figure out how the blender works. My appliances, especially the dishwasher, are all in shock. (See photo. . a truly rare sight!!)

Andrea, thank goodness, is feeling stronger every day. Not so surprisingly, she is now doing most of her own cooking, and I am once again enjoying life as the "designated eater" at Chez Benardo. I do, however, venture into Publix on a regular basis these days, brandishing the list Andrea provides. Since my former shopping method was to go straight to the Cat Food aisle, and maybe make a fast stop in the Dairy department for some yogurt before exiting quickly, I now travel up and down the aisles seeking exotic items like dill pickles and tartar sauce. .things that have never before seen the inside of my refrigerator. Talk about sticker shock! Who knew food costs so much? Take my word for it, this is a whole new world for moi.

Guess it doesn't matter how old your kids are. I may have missed out on the cooking gene, but being a Mom seems to be embedded somewhere in your DNA.
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