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Monthly Archives: February 2012

What A Swell Party It Was

Do you ever play the lottery game?  You know, the one in which you fantasize about what you’d do with the winnings?  At every turn of this game, over countless years, my fantasies always take the exact same form.  It involves the requisite good works (anything else would be indecent) and the party.  The setting for the party has suffered some blows over the years.  It had to be relocated from the QE II to the Rainbow Room to now destinations unknown.  The event details are always the same; a small group friends, fabulous food, champagne and first-rate musical performances selected for dancing and swooning pleasure.

The real point of the lottery game is that it allows one to consider what makes one’s heart sing.  The party I dream of will most likely not become a reality, but I can approach my most meaningful friendships in the same celebratory manner.  I can also dream of an intimate musical performance that feels as if it is being performed just for me.  And on one cold winter night that dream came true.

A few years ago I was at the Oak Room at the Algonquin Hotel to see Tom Wopat.  He is a remarkable performer; chock full of charisma and a love of ballads.  That winter night there were no more than 30 people in the audience and I was seated directly in front of Mr. Wopat.  As he sang his West Side Story medley inches from my table, my eyes filled and my mind raced; I was living part of my lottery dream.

My thoughts turn to that magical night with the news that the Algonquin Hotel will be shuttering the Oak Room for good.  When they docked the QE II I found it unsettling.  But when they closed the Rainbow Room and now the Oak Room, it was personal.  I know I don’t live in the most genteel of times, but when I step into these gorgeous time capsules I can dream.  And really, without a little sepia toned fantasy, doesn’t it all tend to get just a bit too dreary?

 
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Posted by on February 3, 2012 in Style

 

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We’ll Always Be Bosom Buddies

“Make new friends but keep the old, some are silver and the others gold.”  Did you sing this in music class too?  No doubt my little girl hand clutched my bestest (at that moment) friend’s hand, as we sang with all our might.  Once we enter the “adolescent years” friendships explode and burn like Jiffy Pop kernels.  Alliances and stand-offs occur at every turn.

But then things (hopefully) normalize as we get older.  We travel through adult life wearing many more hats than we did as students.  We are workers, alumni, community members, spouses and parents.  As we take new jobs or join new gyms, we shyly look for people with whom we might click.  It’s exciting to discover a kindred spirit, particularly as we become even more individually defined.  (Let’s face it, it’s a lot easier to find a classmate who shares your obsession with Harriet the Spy and Kit Kat bars, than it is an adult with whom you care to have lunch.)  Sometimes a work friend is just that; someone with whom to share frustrations and gossip and maybe an occasional lunch.  On the rare occasion a friend discovered in the workplace shares your sensibilities throughout your life.  The same is true for friends found at the school gate, house of worship, or neighborhood.  If you are lucky, there will be people in your life who transcend place.

Something most of us could never have foreseen is the impact of social media.  The generation that created it could not even have predicted how it would impact those of us long passed paying off our student loans.  Why would they?  For them it was a great way to connect with age and class-mates.  For those of us of a certain age it means our past has found us.  On our own terms of course.  If someone would had told me, ten years ago, that I would be in touch with the girl who taught me fractions, well, I would have looked at them as I looked at her when she tried to explain the difference between fourths and fifths.  There are friends I have thought of throughout the years.  Some I even Googled periodically.  But today, through the magic of Facebook, like a good military commander, I can report that almost every person is accounted for.  Almost without exception, most are doing wonderfully in their lives, and that is a joy to know.  I have been reminded of the longevity of intellect and creativity.  That girl who was so quick and so funny?  She’s gotten even better.  The woman at work who had more style than should be allowed?  Nothing’s changed, and her daughter seems to have inherited it.

But what about all those found friends with whom a mutual interest in Wacky Packs, Dr. Pepper lip balm and the claymation of Mr. Bill, were the ties that bind?  Is there much to discuss (on Facebook or in person) beyond, “Hey, there you are!”  After a few awkward versions of “So, you’re like a grown-up now” is there anything left to say?  Any connecting points whatsoever?  What if it’s worse than that?  What if through the public broadcasting of Facebook you discover your schoolyard chum is a bigot or invokes the name of their favorite deity far more frequently than your comfort level allows?  What if they post photos of babies dressed as flowers or puppies playing football?  Is the fact that you grew up within a mile of each other enough to sustain a friendship, even one in the virtual world?  For better or worse, “unsubscribe” is as effective as not returning calls.  I am almost never a fan of letting things go unsaid, but what is the point of a conversation that starts with; “I wish I never knew these things about you.”  Luckily those incidences are a just a tiny fraction of the larger friendship pie; their denominator being larger (see! I did catch on eventually.)  The vast majority of found friends are a gift I simply never could have foreseen.  It has created a fluidity and continuity of life for which I am so grateful.  When the very best part of your past can be part of your present; well, what a wonderful world it is.

 
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Posted by on February 2, 2012 in Cultural Critique, Media/Marketing

 

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