Best. Campaign. Twofer. Ever.

Blending the names of a twosome, whether celebrity couple or political running mates has become a big trend.

Now that Obama is the nominee and has chosen his Veep, the Twofers are starting.

On Letterman Monday night they came up with some ideas for the Democratic ticket. "This is a CBS News Election '08 Update. In a new CBS Poll, voters were asked which nickname they preferred for the Democratic ticket of Obama-Biden.

In second place is ‘Obiden,' with 39%.

In last place with 3%, ‘Jidenamackojoba.' " (I have no clue what that means).

Then, tonight, after Obama's rock 'em, sock 'em speech, Tom Brokaw made a classic slip of the tongue, saying again: OBiden.

But I have to say again, especially in this town, the hands down winner by a country mile:

SATC - Entertainment, Not Politics

"... we have come a long way. No question. Definitely. But it's not because of 'Sex and the City.' It's because of what real women have done in real lives, not on TV sets." Susie Bright

Just when my brain is about to explode from too much media coverage of the presidential campaign, along comes the movie version of Sex and the City.

What does it say about our values that Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama get a break from the spotlight while the media engage in a virtual masturbatory orgy of psychobabble about the global impact of a fictional group of horny, romantic, often silly women?

Enough! Sex and the City is a movie, not a movement. The real, political movement already happened -- back in the 60's and 70's. I know. I was there. It was called Women's Liberation. Equal Rights. The Sexual Revolution.

Those hard won battles weren't fueled by a TV show or a movie any more than the SATC movie or TV show launched any kind of new cultural breakthroughs. So today's 20-somethings seem obsessed about sex, why does that have so many writers' panties in a twist?

Every generation of young people thinks it invented sex. Our great grandparents were having group sex in bathtubs full of gin, for cryin' out loud. It was the Baby Boomer generation --Make Love, Not War-- that opened a truly new and open discussion.

We Boomers can claim, legitimately, that ours is the generation who brought sex, drugs and rock 'n roll out of the closet and into the forefront of our culture.

We took away the shame, the blame, the insulting game whose rules told us that healthy sexual appetites are for men only. That sexual objectification and worse, abuse, is tolerable. That women don't have the right to control our own bodies.

That's the bottom line. Now, we can not only control them, we can enjoy them. Do what we want with them. Discuss them. Trust me, we dished down-and-dirty then, and we still do.

Most of us weren't strutting the streets of Manhattan in $800 shoes and $1500 dresses. We wore jeans and flip flops. (Oh, you thought you invented those too? Jeez). But we had just as much sex just as casually and reviewed just as many details with our BFF's as do fictional Carrie and crew.

By the way, I'm a devoted SATC fan. Especially because the openness, dreams and vulnerability portrayed resonate with me and my generation of sexually active women from 30-to-50-something. And, one hopes, beyond.

SATC was a hot, sexy TV show with a lot of snappy dialogue, sex, flash, dazzle, and women dropping the F-bomb as casually as they dropped their panties. Yes, they all wanted to be married or at least cared for, but guess what ... so do we all. We don't need someone with a PhD in relationship therapy to tell us the obvious.

I've been eagerly waiting for the movie, but I'm planning to wait just a little longer til the crowds of over-dressed, overly self-conscious and pretentious SATC wannabes are gone. Then, my girlfriends and I will go. And laugh and cry and maybe get annoyed (I already hate Carrie's wedding dress) at the excess.

But in the end, it's just entertainment. Not politics. Which, frankly, gets more fantastical every day.

Air Travel Tips

"Today, most people consider just getting there to be the only remaining value in air travel." Zagat Survey

It's travel season and as a seasoned traveler I'm sharing some tips on how to make your airplane trip smoother, easier and a little safer.

Zen Approach
A realistic, even fatalistic attitude is the key to sane air travel. Today's reality means you will be dealing with underpaid, overworked people in positions of power without proper training or enough supervision.

Many of those people can--and will--abuse that power and make your life hell. If you let them. (I'll tell you how to minimize that in a minute).

Chant to yourself over and over before you leave the house, "It's out of my control. It's out of my control. It's out of my control."

And face facts: if you can't deal with the inevitability of being overcharged, underserved, ordered around, invaded, ignored, pushed, prodded, poked and possibly insulted ... all while enduring endless, boring waits, don't fly. Just stay home. Really.

Money Matters
Keep a collection of ones and fives in a separate small holder, in your pocket or in the top compartment of a carry-on. This is for tips. Don't be stingy. You can afford to hand out a total of twenty bucks to people making minimum wage schlepping heavy stuff for tired, cranky travelers.

Make sure your wallet is packed way down deep in a bag that never leaves your side. I stow my cash and credit cards in a make-up case or anything else that isn't all that interesting and doesn't resemble a wallet. Put some extra money and one credit card in a different place or on your person.

If you're traveling overseas, try to get some local currency before you leave. Do not change money in a foreign airport unless it's a local bank branch. And even with our economy and buying power at an all time low, everybody still wants American dollars.

Send yourself email with your passport info, including number and expiration date, your itinerary and your credit card and bank numbers.

Packing Lists
Make a Travel Packing List and save it on your computer. I have different lists for different destinations. Florida, Israel, California, Denver ... each requires different clothes and gear.

I also group my lists into categories, i.e. Backpack, Carry-On, Checked Luggage. When I'm ready to pack, I print the list and check things off as I put them in the bags.

Tape a copy of your list to the inside of each bag as a reminder so you don't leave anything behind on your return. Plus, it's a good way to keep track of your stuff ... and to let the airline know you're doing just that.

By the way, this is not overly anal. Disagree? Okay, get back to me when you reach your destination and realize you forgot your prescription reading glasses, special shampoo, camera or phone charger.

Pro Packing
Pack meds, toilet articles, iPod, etc. in see-thru cases and fold clothes into plastic packing bags and big zip-locks, which you can buy at Target or CVS.

Remember, your luggage will be searched over and over, your belongings moved and touched by strangers. Security screeners only wear those blue plastic gloves to protect them from the cooties in everybody's luggage.

If they can see everything through your clear plastic cases and bags, security personnel are less likely to open them and physically touch your stuff.

Important: Pack all medications, essential small toiletries, a set of underwear and one outfit in your carry-on to get you through at least a day of lost or late luggage. Include a pack of tissues. And a small bottle of hand sanitizer to use after you've visited the bathroom. Especially on the plane, you don't want the lavatory water even to touch your hands.

Lugging Luggage
If you travel with a lot of stuff, buy the cheapest, lightest luggage you can find. A $35 roomy 30" rolling upright from Walmart has lasted me six round trips and counting from Philly to Tel Aviv.

Mark the outside of your luggage front and back with duck tape. I write my last name in bold marker on the tape. I don't know why more people don't do this, but I can pick out my bags in a flash from the other side of the carousel, and so can a porter (or a kind stranger) if I'm exhausted and needing help.

Don't forget to put your name and address INSIDE your luggage. If those fancy monogrammed luggage tags you bought from Eddie Bauer fall off, how will the airline find you?

Take a digital picture of your bags inside and out and keep it on your camera (print a copy, too) in case the airline loses them. The copy of your travel packing list will come in real handy then too.

At the Airport
Have your ticket, ID or passport and a credit card all together up front where you can grab them instantly. How many times have you stood in line behind someone digging endlessly through her bag making everyone wait? Don't let that person be you.

Bring along a book or magazine, your iPod, take a pill if necessary. Whatever you can do to reduce stress, relieve boredom and let you go with the flow will save you a lot of aggravation.

It's a given you will stand in line quite a while to go through security. Seize that opportunity and use the time productively by preparing for the scanner. Dump the Pepsi. Take off your jacket. Get the laptop out. Unlace the shoes (slip-on's are so much smarter). Have your quart Ziploc ready to drop in the bin.

We all know we have to do this. Savvy travelers don't wait til they reach the belt to start the whole process. They also know you don't make jokes or conversation with TSA employees. Unless you need to point out the metal pins in your knee, the best approach is silent compliance.

While you're in the departure lounge be pleasant to people. Admire babies, smile sympathetically at the parents of crying or restless children. Help an older person with a bag or offer to get her a bottle of water. Strike up a conversation with the person next to you. All will make time pass and gain you points, if only in heaven.

And if you have a question or request for airline personnel, be nice, be patient, try to be courteous even if they're frazzled. Remember, they don't run the airline, their job mainly consists of stamping tickets and listening to angry people bitch and moan every hour of every single day.

On the Plane
Have your boarding pass (and ID if required) in your hand when boarding is called. If possible, have your book and glasses out or at the top of your carry-on too.

Read your boarding pass, figure out approximately where your seat is, find it fast, stow your bag(s) above and below your seat and sit down as quickly as possible.

Help your seat mate do the same if necessary.

You will have gone to the bathroom while waiting in the departure lounge.

Then you can settle back, open your book, embrace your Zen attitude and be well prepared to wait until the waiting's over.

FL Jews vs Obama or the New York Times?

Eric Thayer for The New York Times

Shirley Weitz, right, talking to Ruth Grossman in Boynton Beach, Fla. The Jews she knows will not vote for Senator Barack Obama, Ms. Weitz said, because of “his attitude toward Israel.”

There's an article in The New York Times on the ambivalence many Florida Jews feel about voting for Barack Obama. It's a serious article about an important issue. But somebody at the Times didn't pay attention to some decidedly unserious gaffes.

Let's start with Mrs. Weitz of Boynton Beach, pictured above in the article's cover photo. Styled dark hair, expert make-up, trim figure, trendy clothes. I see similar lovely ladies when I visit my parents in nearby Boca Raton.

Not one of those women would ever choose to be identified in the New York Times by her age, except possibly in her obituary.



Okay, maybe a small thing. But let's move on to Ms. Grossman, literally outed by the Times on race and her voting preference.



I think the cat's out of the bag now, Ms. Grossman. Unless none of your neighbors read the Times.

Then there's the sidebar photo. Unintentionally hilarious. Oh, don't give me a hard time about fat-bashing. I don't care what you look like as long as you're healthy. But I'm guessing the lady pictured isn't too thrilled with the offer to um, further enlarge her image.



Finally I have to ask Rabbi New how he thinks his senior constituents will respond when they read his highlighted Times quote as he mused about "The fate of the world for the next four years."



Oy.

Liz Spikol and 'Mad Pride'

Shea Roggio for The New York Times

"It's not a 'mental' illness, it's a medical condition." Dale Neaman

So there she is, Liz Spikol, profiled in the New York Times and on the Huffington Post, back to back. Wow. How cool is that. Especially on a subject about which she happens to be an expert: mental illness.

The focus is on Spikol's contribution to a modern movement dedicated to bringing mental illnesses out of the dark ages and onto the Internet and YouTube. To shine light on a litany of very real medical conditions once hidden in the same kind of closet as homosexuality.

I knew Liz as a child, followed her impressive professional career, learned of her long battle with mental illness. I've celebrated her growth here but never came out, so to speak, about my own membership in her not so exclusive club.

'Mad Pride' is finally a group I can get behind 100 per cent. No, I'm not crazy (neither is Liz). But I'm not totally sane either. If you just went, HUH? that's the problem 'Mad Pride' proponents are trying to address.

Look around, hardly anybody you know is issue-free, so to speak. Or chemical-free, as a result of any number of very real mood disorders and illnesses. Usually inherited, just like heart disease or diabetes.

Yeah, I live a "normal," mentally balanced life, but only with the help of prescribed pharmaceuticals, internal fortitude and external support. So do millions of others, many, many of whom are related to me.

In our family alone we've got bi-polar disorder, manic depression, hypo-mania, clinical depression, suicidal ideation disorder, a potpourri of anxiety disorders, PTSD, obsessive-compulsive disorder, alcoholism, ADHD, Asperger's Syndrome and last but not least, body dysmorphic disorder.

Just about the only thing missing is schizophrenia. Although.... wait ... no! ... maybe ... well ... hold on! ... shut up! Oh, nevermind. Just kidding.

Mental illness isn't funny. Unless you've been through the tunnel, come out the other end and are managing your disease well. Then it can--for some, Must--be a stitch. Because that's the best way to patch yourself up.

A poster girl for 'Mad Pride,' Liz Spikol speaks with heart, humor, raw honesty, intelligence and incredible perception about her battles with bi-polar disorder. Listen to her.



Then listen some more.

I'll take my turn in print. Sometime soon.

Jenna Bush, AKA J-BU

"I think this wedding is one of the most special ones we've done." Donald Trump

Okay, now that the pictures are out, I have to dish. I didn't think I'd care and really, I don't. But still, to see such crashing bad taste all in one place is just too much fun to overlook.

First of all, Oscar de la Renta or not, that low-cut, tightly fitted gown would look more fitting on say, Katherine Heigl than on Jenna Bush. It screams Hottie on the Red Carpet instead of murmuring Blushing Bride.

And I have to ask, what was up with Maid of Honor twin Barbara's Greek Goddess look, complete with wreath headdress? Jeez.

George and Barbara Bush Senior are conspicuously absent from the photos, which is okay since Laura choose a matronly, ugly dress more suitable for Grandmother of the Bride.

Then we had the two fathers and the groom in complimentary and matching ice blue ties. Again, Jeez.

These people have access to the best clothes and fashion advice that money can buy. Aside from a truly lovely engagement ring--which come to think of it came from the groom's side--and a glorious setting provided by nature, the wedding party's look was as tacky as the souvenirs being hawked all over Crawford.

It is sweet the wedding took place this weekend, but I bet that wasn't Jenna's idea. Releasing those pictures on Mother's Day is too good an opportunity for a sagging presidency to pass up.

Around here, there's no wedding, just the usual pride. Our son spent the weekend down in Boca with his grandparents (today is my Dad's birthday too). Tonight we'll pick him up at the airport and go to our favorite Italian restaurant for a relaxed Mother's Day dinner.

All that and roses too.

I won't be wearing Oscar de la Renta ... just the usual jeans. And a great big happy smile.

Barbara Walters Really Is Baba Wawa

"I guess it's good to be made fun of, I guess that means you're slightly famous." Barbara Walters

If you're an early Baby Boomer you remember Gilda Radner's hilarious send-ups of Barbara Walters on Saturday Night Live. More than parodying her slight speech impediment, Radner really skewered Walters' overblown sense of self-importance and concurrent false modesty about her iconic celebrity status.

Serious journalist? Yes, Walters had the chops and some of the 20th Century's top interviews to prove it. Ground-breaking feminist? Absolutely. She was television's first female journalist, breaking ground for most of today's women on TV news and quasi-news shows.

She even broke through the glass ceiling, if only briefly as television's first female evening news anchor on ABC. When she got cut, she showed 'em all by making more money and becoming more famous than the jamokes who juked her.

Less than impressive is her pivotal role in creating the execrable "infotainment" triad of news, entertainment and celebrity gossip that has supplanted actual news for millions of television viewers.

Did she dally with the great and near great along the way? Well, of course. Who wouldn't? But I don't believe for a second she slept her way to fame and fortune. She just slept with the famous and the rich and powerful who swam in the waters where she dangled her feet.

Now, thanks to the nauseating hype surrounding the most obscure affair she reveals in her newly released autobiography, we are subjected to cutesy, near-adolescent descriptions of her sexual exploits.

I just have to say for the record, Blech. If you can't talk like an adult, I don't want to listen.

Which is nothing compared to my outrage at the media for pouncing on Walters' revelation of her affair with former Massachusetts Senator Edward Brooke. And beating it to death. It's pandering of the very worst kind.

Until Walters' book, Brooke was a man living under the radar, completely out of public life. At the time of their affair he was her "younger man." A married man. A US Senator. And by the way, he's Black.

Groundbreaking, famous white woman and younger, formerly little known Black senator plastered all over the news together. Beyond Blech.

I don't know who thought up that disgusting marketing ploy, but Shame on You! And, I have a feeling, shame on Baba Wawa for going along with it just to sell her wittle book.

Mormon Moms and Miley

Annie Leibovitz

"There is no greater reason for children to honour parents than for parents to honour children except, that while the children are young, the parents are stronger than children." Bertrand Russell

There's an old cliche that says people will do almost anything for love or money. It seems the current trend along those lines--at least in LA and Eldorado, Texas--is pimping out children.

Every time I look at that picture of 15 year old Miley Cyrus and her father Billy Ray, I gag.

I'm no prude, but don't tell me that's art, Annie Leibovitz or not. Some things are just simply wrong ... including a photo that portrays a teenage girl waay too close to her father's Achy-Breaky Heart.

Would you pose like that with Your father? Would he sit like that with you, on or off camera? Would you sanction other half naked pictures of your teenage daughter flashed all over the media?

No. Of course not.

Miley Cyrus is a young girl in a business that chews up over-exposed teen sexpots and spits them out directly into drug rehab. At only 15 she still has a chance to grow up undamaged.

Yet instead of protecting her, Miley's parents are selling her to the highest bidder. In this case, Vanity Fair. Read the article, even it's author appears sceeved out by the Cyrus clan.

Hard to top, but Tish and Billy Ray's inappropriate parenting pales in comparison to the acts of abuse and neglect by the Stepford Wives of the Yearning For Zion Ranch in the name of religious big love.


AP Photos

We don't have pictures of their Mormon child-mothers to make us gag, thank god. The mental images are bad enough. Although, maybe that teen girl in the pink dress is the smaller kid's mother. A truly horrifying thought.

Would you send your teen daughter into the bed of a man 2-3 times her age in order to get her pregnant? Would you welcome a 14-year-old girl into your bed as your "wife" and impregnate her over and over?

No. Of course not. God, I certainly hope not.

Because 31 of the 53 teen girls between 14 and 17 who were taken into state custody from that Eldorado hellhole either have children themselves or are currently pregnant.

Do you, would you, have you ever beaten your children until you broke their bones?

Because so far 41 children have been identified as having multiple bone fractures. C'mon, you watch Law and Order. That's clear evidence of child abuse.

We don't know how badly abused the adult women of this bizarre cult may have been or for how long to have treated their own children so outrageously. Perhaps they were regularly drugged without their knowledge.

For sure they've been brainwashed. But that's no excuse.

Whether it's Miley's parents or the Mormon Moms, the adults in both real life dramas are acting like children by forcing their children to act like adults. Apparently for love or money.

El Sistema - Drums, Not Guns

"A child's physical poverty is overcome by the spiritual richness that music provides." Dr. José Antonio Abreu

Did you watch 60 Minutes Sunday night? If so, you were inspired and humbled by a story about a music program call El Sistema -- the system. It's credited with saving hundreds of thousands of Venezuela's cruelly disadvantaged, impoverished children by teaching them music.

Bob Simon tells how children start in El Sistema as early as 2 years old, are eventually given instruments, willingly practice for hours every day, six days a week and learn to play in orchestras instead of on the dangerous streets.

The brutal reality of the slums in which they try to stay alive is so unfair you want to scream. Not so different in America, but what do we do about it? Cut after-school and cultural enrichment programs. Our children play with guns instead of clarinets and trumpets and drums.

The best of the El Sistema musicians travel the world as the Simon Bolivar National Youth Orchestra. They've just played Carnegie Hall to cheering crowds. That's what happens everywhere they appear.

If this doesn't make you smile and cheer and even choke up a little with pride for the accomplishments of these amazing children, then you are made of stone. But you're not.

So crank up your speakers and get the hankie ready.

Show Us Your Boob Job

Lori Shepler / Los Angeles Times

"I'm so scared girls look at my breast implants and think, 'To get boys, you need big boobs.' I tell them, 'Don't get it done. Those fears go away. You develop other insecurities, but breasts aren't one of them.' " Jenny Mccarthy

Okay, let's talk about boobs. No, not politicians. Actual breasts. Specifically a Spring Break contest held--where else--in a California nightclub. The prize being--what else--a boob job.

Yes, you heard right. Some teenage girl just won herself free breast augmentation surgery during a Limbo contest and a final "Bobbing for Boobs" contest at the V20 Nightclub in Long Beach, CA.

Hey, every nightclub needs a gimmick. And apparently many girls who've heard those immortal Spring Break words, "Show us your t*ts!" believe they need bigger ones.

So that's the rationale behind "The Spring Break Breast Augmentation Contest Series," tongue-twister brainchild of 23-year-old promoter Jason DeLeon. Just 23 and already a marketing genius. His parents must be so proud.

In Jason's own words, "We just thought that the No. 1 reason people come to the club is, of course, girls. So how would we attract that demographic? Plastic surgery. It's what they're into."

Jason's company--yep, he has his own company, too--will pay the plastic surgeon, Dr. Karl Nguyen for the surgery. Dr. Nguyen didn't want to be interviewed about the contest, making me wonder how his own parents might feel. Or, maybe he has a daughter with boob issues of her own.

Far too many girls today have breast, body, self-esteem issues. More than a thousand showed up for that dinky contest in Long Beach. "It's always nice to get free boobies," said contestant Tracy Boi. And "Lanle" (no last name) had her reasons for joining in: "To get boobs. More self-esteem."

Imagine if one of the TV networks grabbed--uh, purchased--Jason's idea and took it national. Our sick pop culture already displayed in magazines, TV shows, movies and the celebration of celebrity role models virtually guarantees gazillions of tiny teens with A and B cups would line up around the block for a chance to go under the knife.

That's the scary part. Kids having unnecessary elective surgery to meet some unrealistic ideal. What an image: fake breasts perched unnaturally on the chests of girls who are--no matter the fancy make-up and hottie outfits--still children. And who should be expanding their brains, not their potential sex appeal.

I'm not opposed to plastic surgery -- I believe in nose jobs, for example. If the expectations are realistic and the doctor carefully chosen, a smaller honker can make a girl look better and feel better about herself. Really. I know.

And hey, I'm a Baby Boomer, I might want some "freshening" myself someday. As an adult I have the right to make those decisions and the maturity to cope with potential mistakes. I know other adult women who've had breast surgery. Some for augmentation. Too many for mastectomy reconstruction.

They all had genuine reasons for risking surgery. Bottom line, I believe in a woman's right to choose what happens to her own body. Notice I said woman.

But c'mon, a contest offering Boobies for Babies is just plain wrong.

Hilton Headache

"Don't forget until too late that the business of life is not business but living." Barry C. Forbes

Another business trip to a vacation resort. This time it's Hilton Head, South Carolina. AKA "The Low Country." Not sure what that means but I get an image of creatures crawling through a swamp. Not my favorite kind of place.

Hilton Head is well known as a golfer's paradise. In fact, our taxi driver tells us, there are 44 golf courses on the island, the most per square mile in the world. Which would add the unique distinction of featuring the ugliest outfits in the world.

Hilton Head Island's full time local population is about 50,000 but at any given time swells to include 3/4 million visitors. Many of them golfers. But also tourists and everyday vacationers. And conventioneers.

As with any vacation destination, there are things to do ... theme parks, beaches, museums and shopping in addition to golf.

And the real bonus to many (though not I): Hilton Head Island is teeming with wildlife areas, marshes, maritime forests. There are tours galore to explore the island on foot, in sailboats or via guided nature-kayaking excursion. This unique barrier island is a nature-lovers paradise.

So what to do if it rains? Every. Single. Day.

Hey, no problem. I'm happy to stay indoors. There's also a Spa.

Cats and Cardio

lolcats.com

"There is something about the presence of a cat...that seems to take the bite out of being alone." Louis Camuti

At your next dinner party, forget politics, sex or religion. Just bring up the subject of cats and dogs and the fur will start to fly. Most pet owners have extreme, passionate opinions when it comes to the canine-feline debate.

If you don't have a pet, you may think you're smart but are probably a little lonely. Possibly a tiny bit misogynistic, truth be told. Pets require more communication and commitment than children. Or a spouse. And frankly, the return on investment is much better, unconditional-love-wise.

But back to the debate. Dog lovers tend to be loud, pedantic and well, often insufferable in defense of their various hairy breeds. They make disdainful faces at cat owners (you know the look), as if a cat isn't a "real" pet.

Ignorant philistines.

Cat owners never put dogs down. We just smile pleasantly and say, "How nice for you, I bet it's tiring to walk Bruiser late at night." We're a little smug because we know the magical, practical secret of cat ownership: big love, very little maintenance.

Plus, dog owners don't understand the cat gestalt. Cats are genuine, card-carrying pets. They're only independent when they have to be ... or when you force them to be. Most pet cats act pretty much like dogs. They bond with you. Sometimes on your head even.

Sure, not many cats sit up or roll over, but not many cat owners care about dumb animal tricks. We go for the grace, the pace, the purr, the personality. Our cats have habits and tendencies and behaviors as varied as our own.

They don't attack strangers. They don't sniff Uncle Ned's crotch or hump Grandma's leg. They might hiss if somebody brings a dog to visit (ours camps out on top of the fridge when my sister brings her Lab, Lucy), but mostly they show polite indifference.

With their owners, a different story. Far from standoffish, they vie endlessly for your attention. Your lap. Your hand stroking their fur. And the always popular, I Want To Playyyyy..... usually in the middle of the night.

They're so cute. Running sprints up and down the hall. Slamming into the slider at that bird on the other side. Meowing in all manner of voices: I need food, you left me alone all day/for three days, my litter's dirty, I'm gonna hurl, stop typing and pet me!

Nobody has to throw cats tennis balls, they play with their toys on their own. That's the good kind of independence. Playing, staying, eating, sleeping, eliminating ... they don't need you for any of it. But they want you. Love you. And if you want to love them, they're on you in a flash.

Now a new study from the University of Minnesota says cat owners are less at risk for heart attack and stroke. Less than those with dogs. Or no pets. The study doesn't mention children.

Our kid's grown and gone. Our cat's reading this over my shoulder and nodding sagely. I'm calm as could be. Maybe we'll change her name to Lipitor.

Sex and the City Countdown

Craig Blankenhorn/New Line Cinema

"After years of living in the city, I always assumed that if my friends and I ever got our fairy tale endings, that would be the end of the story." Carrie Bradshaw

They're ba-aack. Carrie, Samantha, Miranda and Charlotte. They've started to tease us and I have to admit it's working. I'm psyched. Pumped. Practically panting with eagerness to see the movie version of HBO's boffo chick hit Sex and the City.

Admit it, if you're a Baby Boomer or younger, you were hooked on the show too. You can tell me in a flash if you're a Carrie, a Miranda or a Charlotte. (Few admit to being a Samantha, though 'fess up, girls, there's a little of her in all of us).

Yes it was a chick show. The fashion, the sophistication, the fashion, the rich and famous, the fashion, the hot men, the hot spots and high life all had appeal. But that was surface stuff. Whipped Cream. Window dressing. Really.

Some few New York fashionistas will claim haute couture was a separate character in Sex and the City. Maybe it was. But in the end, as shallow a figure as those who crave its expensive, empty rewards.

Most women viewers of the show, no matter their age, will tell you we related mainly to women -- and their relationships. The tight friendships. The interactive support, counsel and love only women instinctively know how to supply.

We lived inside those girls, felt their joy and pain. Understood their angst, anger, aggravation and attitudes about men. About each other. Careers. Sex. Marriage. Children. Other People. Lifestyles. The Future.

No matter what they wore--even $800 shoes--or how extravagantly they lived, at heart, they were Us. Their experiences, dates, lovers, hopes, dreams, foibles, failures, ups and downs--and their romances, especially their romances--were ours too.

We've all been breathless with love, learned that it makes us high, low, happy, helpless, hopeless and strong. We've most of us found that successful relationships come with strings. Conditions. Compromise.

Our Sex and the City counterparts learned about love the hard way too.

Sappy, WASPy Charlotte found her dream man in a bald, chubby nice Jewish guy. Ms. tough cookie, claw's-bared Miranda learned to relax into a bartender's arms. Even savvy, swinging Samantha seemed ready to dial it back for the younger but wiser Smith.

And Carrie the Everywoman got her--no, Our--Mr. Big. The happy ending we wanted--no, Needed--her to achieve. Cinderella and the Prince. A fantasy? Yes. But some solid reality and lots of entertaining fun.

The New York Times is busy examining the marketing and product placement aspects of the movie. Most of us don't care. And won't be buying a Mercedes or some Manolos after viewing the film.

We'll be too busy dishing about what we saw and what's going to happen to our friends next.

Britney - Yesterday and Today

Question: There are some of rumors going around right now (none of which I believe are true) but, how do feel about them and how do you handle it?

Britney Spears: Well, first of all, of course, all of the rumors are not true. I think it's really sad that people will say anything to sell magazines. And it's really sad that at 17 I have to deal with this. But that's just the entertainment business, I guess and I'm just going to have to roll with the punches.

I knew Britney Spears nine years ago while doing live chats on AOL. She was 17, unsophisticated, naive, not terribly bright. But a sweet child. With real talent. Charisma. Youthful humility. Not so blind ambition.

She was already a Teen Queen and was just beginning to catch the attention of main stream audiences and The Media. She had a boyfriend, a new car, a hit record, a loving family, strong faith and a very promising future.

Britney realized much of her promise too fast and with too little support from her parents. Money and fame and real life hit her like a runaway train. Yet her parents let it drag her along and down.

She became a gigantic star before she had a chance to become a grown woman. And so of course she became a media punching bag, a designated bimbo whose every action is chronicled and maligned around the world.

Yes, she's behaved badly. Celebrities have behaved badly for generations, both publicly and in private. Many of them experienced, educated, urban adults. But Britney hasn't had those advantages. And almost nothing is private any more.

In Britney's case, she keeps bumping into not only paparazzi but her own young, worse self. The signs--filled with irony--were all there from the beginning.

Look at these sad, prophetic tidbits from one of those early AOL chats:

Question: Are you recognized on the street?

Britney Spears: It's not overwhelming. It's just enough to where it's flattering. I've been with people where it's like they can't go anywhere. It's ridiculous. It's sad.

Question: Do you have any idols?

Britney Spears: Yeah, I love Whitney Houston, she's incredible. I totally admire her.

Question: Do you like all the attention of being a hot singer?

Britney Spears: I mean sometimes it's fun, but sometimes it can be a little overwhelming and you don't have peace or time to yourself, but sometimes it is really flattering.

Question: What do find most rewarding about performing?

Britney Spears: Probably just the crowd's reaction is the best feeling when you're up there. Even the songs that aren't out yet, they're still screaming, and that's the best feeling in the world because they know your music. And they're screaming your name! (c) 1999, Entertainment Asylum & America Online.

I guess not so much in the right way any more, Britney.

Remember the You-Tube video made by a distraught fan defending Britney with tearful, over-the-top intensity? Most of us made fun of what we saw as misplaced teenaged celebrity-worship and dramatic angst.

It turns out he was right.

And it makes you wonder about Britney's parents -- what took them so long? Why weren't they the first to defend her, even half as passionately?

Her father's on the case now -- better late than never. I hope he acts like a parent and gets her the help she needs.

It would be a shame to see Britney turn into Whitney. And give away all her tomorrows.

1-2-3

"If last year was our Silver Anniversary, what's this year?" my husband
"This year is our Tire Iron Anniversary." me

Today is our wedding anniversary. We've been married 26 years, no small accomplishment. Friends used to ask if I chose January 23 --i.e. 1.23-- deliberately, to help my husband remember our anniversary date.

Nope, January 23 just happened to be the Saturday night all the elements came together ... including an unplanned humongous sleet storm.

In the interest of history--or boredom--I decided to find out what else happened on January 23, according to the New York Times.

It wasn't the best date for some people. Salvador Dali, Captain Kangaroo and Johnny Carson died on January 23, in different years of course.

But it's heartening to remember just two days after celebrating celebrating Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr that on January 23, 1964 Congress ratified the 24th Amendment, eliminating the poll tax in federal elections. And for some historic perspective, the TV mini-series "Roots" first aired January 23, 1977.

On the political front, how fitting that January 23 is the day in 1845 that Congress decreed national elections would be held on the first Tuesday after the first Monday in November.

Continuing in that theme, Franklin D. Roosevelt chose January 23, 1932 to announce his candidacy for the Democratic presidential nomination.

Richard Nixon announced an end to the Vietnam War on January 23, 1973, a day I'll never forget. Sitting on my bed all alone I watched him speak on TV, tears running down my cheeks in relief and grief for all the carnage and ruined lives.

January 23, 2009 would be a good day for our next president to announce an accord to end to the War in Iraq.

That will be an anniversary worth remembering.

2007 Follies

"Time quickly puts an end to artificial and accidental fame." Samuel Johnson

We can only hope.

But why not end 2007 with trash, it's been that kind of a year. So I grabbed this from AOL's home page: Top 11 Scandals of 2007 - AOL News, though I don't know how they chose the number 11 -- they definitely missed a few of the juicier ones.

OJ comes to mind, for example ... pun intended.

I barely know--or care--about the first two bimbettes on AOL's list. Certainly Imus qualifies. As does Larry Craig. And let's not forget Scooter Libby. But where are the Three Stooges he took the fall for?

In the Insensitive Boob category, they forgot to add the Grey's Anatomy McFiring of Isaiah Washington. The phone stylings of Alec Baldwin. And, of course, Rosie.

Plus, I have to ask, where's Barry Bonds and the Mitchell Steroids in Baseball Report?

How can they let Mattell off the hook? Or Jet Blue?

What about Anna Nicole's Daddy Derby, complete with crackpot granny?

Not to mention the Top Trashy Twits: Paris and Lindsay and the hands down champ... Britney.

Philly's no slouch in the scandal department either. There's Phila Eagles coach Andy Reid's Bad Seeds. And, to close on a bright note, we've got our own TV anchor-bitch Alycia Lane right up there with a last-minute Offensive Behavior of the Year award.

I'm so pumped to see who will misbehave in 2008. At least we'll eventually get rid of the biggest scandal of all. Yeah, him.

Mexico - Include Me Out

ADW: Iguana iguana: Information

"A vacation is like love - anticipated with pleasure, experienced with discomfort and remembered with nostalgia." (but not always...)

We're home from our vacation at a ritzy all-included resort in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. My husband won the trip, airfare included. And--as I would learn on my first day under a lush palm tree--iguanas also included.

Never. Again.

There I was, two weeks after minor (yeah, right) back surgery. Still hammered by a respiratory trifecta: sinus infection, bronchitis and laryngitis (my Marge Simpson voice, for those who know and love it).

Awash in painkillers and antihistamines, I gamely head for the airport, craving the reward of rest and sun at the end of the long, dark Travel Tunnel.

Arrive Phila airport 6 AM. Arrive Puerto Vallarta airport, via Phoenix, 6 PM. Thirteen hours and three time zones in one day. Phew. Circadian whiplash.

(Puerto Vallarta's on Central Time, which seems odd since it's on Mexico's Pacific coast. But alas, no geography lesson included.)

Nevertheless. Never. Again.

To be fair, the resort is beautiful. Tile floors, open terraces, fountains, lush greenery, pools galore, white beaches, blue ocean. The rooms are spotless and comfortable, though we've never encountered mattresses so unyieldingly hard.

A nice touch: every room has its own fridge stocked and restocked on demand with Corona, Pepsi, 7-Up and bottled water ... all included. Also included, hanging above the fridge are bottles dispensing scotch, rum and tequila at a touch.

The crowning touch: perfect ocean view from broad balcony for glorious nightly sunsets ... all included.

The food is plentiful and edible, if not remarkable. The drinks are a bit watery, but you just keep 'em coming, since all food and drink is included too.

Entertainment runs along two lines: local music/dance and pool games/drinking contests. Since the crowd mostly includes families with young kids, Baby Boomers and beyond, music wins.

As does civilized conversation. We find congenial couples, discuss movies, books, politics. And of course, after a few too many margaritas, spill the more interesting family secrets.

In the end all agree our personal game of choice is Find English-Speaking Programs On TV. You haven't lived til you've seen Oprah in Spanish. Not to mention Heroes and Wheel of Fortune.

It turns out the BBC, CNN and ESPN are included. In English. Along with ER, Gilmore Girls, Grey's Anatomy and Cane. Plus, NFL games. While we watched little TV, I must confess to a longing for Law and Order and House on a few early nights or while escaping the midday heat.

One escape should be the Internet Cafe, aka the Sports Bar. Empty and quiet during the day. Rows of speedy laptops to jump on for $8 an hour. But the stench of stale beer and cigarettes is so overwhelming it's literally hard to breathe. Even this Internet junky only braves a few minutes to check email.

And here's the bottom line about free trips: they're never really free. Tips, gifts, phone calls and incidentals add up to a pretty penny.

Plus, who bastes in the sun any more? Not I. Used to get brown as a berry. Result: five basil cells removed from my face. A Boomer face which doesn't need any more sun-baked fine lines, thank you. Or, god forbid, melanoma.

My idea of a perfect vacation is Paris, Prague, Jerusalem and environs. Or if a sunny locale, Jamaica, Bali, Martinique. No spicy food. No need for bottled water. No tiny commuter planes.

And, worth repeating ... no iguanas.

Never. Again.

No matter what's included.

Office Parties, Damned by Diversity

Company Memo

FROM: Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director
TO: All Employees
DATE: December 10, 2007
RE: Gala Christmas Party

I'm happy to inform you that the company Christmas Party will take place December 23rd starting at noon at the Grill House. There will bea cash bar and plenty of drinks!

We'll have a small band playing traditional carols... feel free to sing along. And don't be surprised if our CEO shows up dressed as Santa Claus!

A Christmas tree will be lit at 1:00 PM. Exchanges of gifts among employees can be done at that time. No gift should be over $10.

This gathering is for employees only!

Our CEO will make a special announcement at the party!

Merry Christmas to you and your family,

Patty



Company Memo, Revision 1

FROM: Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director
TO: All Employees
DATE: December 11, 2007
RE: Gala Holiday Party

In no way was yesterday's memo intended to insult our Jewish employees.We recognize that Hanukkah is also an important holiday. This year, however, Hanukkah will be over by Dec 23rd, so we will not be providinga Menorah.

We also extend our sincere apologies to those who celebrate Kwanzaa, which does not begin until after Christmas and for which the Grill House has no decorations.

So, there will be no Christmas tree either and no Christmas carols will be sung. We will have other types of music for your enjoyment.

And we've renamed our gathering "Holiday Party" to include all employees who are not Christian plus those still celebrating Reconciliation Day.

We hope this covers all concerns.

Happy Holidays to you and your family,

Patty


Company Memo, Revision 2

FROM: Patty Lewis, Human Resources Director
TO: ALL Employees
DATE: December 12, 2007
RE: Holiday Party

What a diverse group we are! I didn't realize Muslims are opposed to drinking alcoholic beverages and do not eat pork. There goes the party!

Seriously, we are dedicated to accommodating all our employees' beliefs. The Grill House has agreed to set up a juice bar, excuse me,juice table, away from the main bar. Will that work?

I'm sorry to announce the gift exchange is cancelled. Union leadership feels that $10 is too much money and Management believes anything under $10 is too chintzy.

REMEMBER: NO GIFTS WILL BE ALLOWED.

Everyone happy now?

Pat


Company Memo, Revision 3

FROM: Patricia Lewis, Human Resources Accommodation and Diversity Director
To: ALL EMPLOYEES, THIS MEANS YOU!
DATE: December 13, 2007
RE: Generic Holiday Party

Per the note I received from a member of Alcoholics Anonymous requesting a non-drinking table, I'm happy to accommodate this request,but you didn't sign your name. And if I put a sign on a table that reads, "AA Only," you wouldn't be anonymous anymore..

How am I supposed to handle this? Somebody? Perhaps you could just share the Muslims' juice bar, excuse me, juice table.

Other Concerns:

** I've arranged for members of Weight Watchers to sit farthest from the dessert buffet. Pregnant women will get the table closest to the restrooms.

** Gays are allowed to sit with each other. Lesbians do not have to sit with Gay men, each group will have its own table.

** Yes, there will be a flower arrangement for the Gay men's table.

** To the person asking permission to cross dress, the Grill House says that no cross-dressing is allowed, apparently because of concerns about use of the restrooms. Sorry.

** Yes, we will have booster seats for short, excuse me, Little people.

** Low-cholesterol food will be available for those on medication.

** I am sorry to report we cannot control the amount of salt usedin the food. The Grill House suggests that people with high blood pressure taste a bite first.

** There will be fresh fruits as dessert for diabetics, but the restaurant cannot supply "sugar free" desserts. Sorry

** Atheists, Agnostics and Buddhists are all welcome at the party.

No religion of any kind will be mentioned. Did I miss anything?!?!?

Patricia Lewis


Company Memo, Revision 4

FROM: P. Lewis, Human Resources Director of Bullshit
TO: All Fucking Employees
DATE: December 14, 2007
RE: The Fucking Holiday Party

That's it! I've had it with you organic and vegetarian pricks!!! We're going to keep this party at the Grill House whether you like it or not. You can sit quietly at the table furthest from the "grill of death," as you so quaintly put it.

You'll get your fucking salad bar, including organic tomatoes. Did you know tomatoes have feelings, too? They scream when you slice them. I've heard them scream. I'm hearing them scream right NOW!

The rest of you fucking weirdos can kiss my holly-covered ass. I hope you all have a rotten holiday!

Drive drunk and die,

Patty Scrooge, The Bitch from Hell !!!


Company Memo, Final

FROM: Joan Bishop, Acting Director, Human Resources
DATE: December 17, 2007
RE: Patty Lewis and Holiday Party

I'm sure I speak for all of us in wishing Patty Lewis a speedy recovery. I'll continue to forward your cards to her.

In the meantime, management has decided to cancel our Holiday Party and give everyone the afternoon of the 23rd off with full pay.

Happy December!

Joan

Daily Schmaily

tami-foto

"A moment's paws" Tami Curtis

Yeah, I know it says Daily Sally up there, but it's not like anybody's paying me or anything. In fact, sometimes I have to put the DS rants and ravings aside to meet deadlines on a paid gig.

However. I got a really sweet letter headed Where are you from a really amazing photographer who apparently has the DS blog on her to-read list.

havent had my daily sally in umm... Well a few days. Please get back to writing. You are missed.

What writer could resist that?

Plus I actually got a couple other letters in the same vein. Did somebody start a committee or something?

So I promise to try harder. Really.

In the meantime, go look at Life Inspired Art.

Sex and the Student

"I don't know where you draw the line. It just has to be done in such a way that people are using common sense." Archie McAfee, executive director, Texas Association of Secondary School Principals

Whoa. Wait a minute. Charging a 7-year-old with sexual harassment is common sense? Because he told a girl he could see her bra strap? I know where you draw the line about sexual harassment, Mr. McAfee: at children.

That seems to have been overlooked in all the "politically correct" brouhaha about the bra strap incident. There can't be sexual harassment when there is no understanding of sexuality.

Let's inject some sanity into this debate, please. How many 7-year-olds do you know who are sexually active?

Boys that age barely notice girls at all, much less in a sexual way. If they do, responsible adults should view it as a possible sign of trouble. Find out if the child is being abused himself. Give him help and guidance, not boot him out of school.

And if he's not being abused, that boy's comment on a bra strap resulted from one of two things: either he's got an older sister or he was put up to it by an older classmate.

Yes it was rude, but that's what 7-year-olds do best. It's up to the schools to teach them proper conduct, not to charge them with sexual harassment. Which is beyond idiotic.

What's wrong with those people?

In all their overkill, those schools are losing a valuable opportunity -- not to punish but to inform. In fact all schools that grossly overreact to innocent childhood behavior are doing the kids and society a grave disservice.

They're supposed to be educators. Yet they mistook a childish prank for the behavior of a sexual predator.

How will those children ever learn about "good touch, bad touch" if their own schools and teachers don't know the difference?