January Is The Month Of The Snowman

January is the month of the winter blahs.  Just ask anyone.  After Christmas and Hanukkah, nobody cares for winter anymore.  Some people may like it since they hate the heat so much, or they like to ski, or they just like to be contrary while everyone else is complaining.  Most of us miss the sun by now, and for some people, these darker months can cause an actual depressive disorder called "Seasonal Affective Disorder."  I first heard of this disorder on one of my all-time favorite TV shows, "Northern Exposure."  The series takes place in Alaska, and their winters are darker than anyone's.  They  lead up to a winter day where there is twenty-four hours of darkness!  One of the characters, Holling, always finds himself hibernating in winter, so he wears a contraption with small light bulbs attached to it that shines on his face and keeps the darkness from getting to him.

My mom has always had another solution to keep from getting depressed during the winter months.  Every January, she decorates the house with dozens of snowmen and even throws all of her friends a "Snowman Party."  The one rule for the party is that everything has to be white.  We all wear white and eat only white foods.  We have white cheddar cheese doodles and Swiss cheese on white crackers for snacks, and later, we order ricotta and mozzarella pizza, no sauce.  The main event of the party is a "Count the Snowmen Game."  Before the party takes place, my mom goes around her house several times to do a meticulous counting of the snowmen.  She counts all the snowmen dolls and nicknacks but also has to count the snowmen on the tablecloth and any pictures she hangs up for the party.  After our white pizza, we go around the house with our snowmen pencils and papers and count all the snowmen in silence.  Whoever comes closest to the correct number of snowmen wins a prize which may or may not be a snowman.

I remember one particular winter morning during the first few days of January when my mom and I had breakfast at the local diner.  For some reason, I had an enormous craving for chocolate chip pancakes.  This was unusual because I never crave anything but eggs for breakfast, ever!  I'm a total egg person.  "That's because we haven't had any sunlight for three days," my mom told me. "Sunshine and chocolate BOTH increase the release of serotonin in our bodies, and serotonin is a natural anti-depressant.  But don't worry," she continued, "January is the month of the snowman.  Even if we don't get any sunshine, we'll both decorate our houses with snowmen, and we'll throw a Snowman Party.  Seeing those smiling faces on the snowmen will cheer us up!"  It's a lot of work to throw a Snowman Party, but think about it:  It's a lot more fun than wearing a device on your head filled with lights!



Yes, You SHOULD Remember Those "Auld" Friends This New Year!

For some reason, my husband and I have always made friends with people older than us.  A LOT older than us.  Back when we were newlyweds (in our early twenties), our two best friends were a couple in their early sixties. My husband was a grad student then, and he met Nadia and Julian every single morning at "Galaxy Donuts," for coffee and hour-long conversations.  Julian was Polish and Nadia was German and, although Christians, they were both in work camps during World War II. They eventually immigrated to Canada and had a lot of stories to tell.

Mostly they talked politics or world history.  My husband nicknamed them "The Prophets" because they often watched TV shows of the apocalypse! Sometimes we'd rent old black and white movies and watch them at each other's apartments.  Or we'd have Polish food at Polonez, our favorite neighborhood restaurant.  But four years later, my husband and I moved to a different part of town, far away from the Polish area, and since none of us had driver's licenses or cars (you didn't need them in the "big city"), we never saw The Prophets again.

I'd like to think that Nadia and Julian are still kicking around somewhere, healthy and happy, together in the "old folks home."  When you don't know what happened to someone you once knew, it's best to imagine them as they were when you knew them, and of course, to never forget them.

My other "old" friend was my former piano teacher, Helen.  I'd known her my whole life.  She was my next door neighbor who began giving me lessons when I was six.  Every Tuesday, for the next ten years, I sat in the first floor sitting room outside the small room she gave lessons in, as I waited for her to finish with the student who studied before I did.  I never had to ring the doorbell.  Because I was her friend, I could just let myself in and wait for my lesson to start.

I never lost touch with Helen and had even spoken to her on the phone a week before she passed away peacefully at the age of 86.  Some of my favorite memories as a child were the nights before our annual weekend of piano recitals when Helen would invite my best friend, Ania, and I to sample some of the cookies that Helen baked every year for the recitals.  My favorites were the delicious powdered sugar and walnut crescent ones. Ania and I would be bubbling with anticipation.  We were nervous and excited at the same time for our weekend's performances where we played solos but also duets together.  Right up until the year that Helen passed away, she still lamented at how one of her biggest regrets was that she never got Ania and me on videotape playing at the recitals.  She had gotten her later students, but she hadn't been tech-savvy enough to have a video camera during Ania's and my heyday.  She was a dear and caring woman and, to this day, still one of the best friends I've ever had.

New Year's is a time to remember all our dear friends, and to cherish the ones we are still blessed with. Happy New Year to all my friends, both old, young and in-between!

Why Believing In Santa Claus Is Essential To Your Health

When it came to believing in Santa Claus, I was one of the last holdouts.  There was nothing more exciting than going to bed on Christmas Eve and waking up to find a bunch of wrapped presents under my tree that were delivered by Santa Claus and his reindeer in the middle of the night.  On the big night, we had a tradition in my family where one of my parents or my older brother would read "The Night Before Christmas" as my bedtime story.  The book had a big colorful illustration of Santa right on the cover.  Little did I know that out of the four of us, I was the only one who still actually believed that Santa really would be visiting our house in just a matter of hours exactly as the book said.

When I was in first grade, one of my classmates, Scott, told me that there wasn't any such thing as Santa Claus.  I still remember his exact words:  "You REALLY think that a fat man wearing a red suit who has a long, white beard slides down your chimney in the middle of the night to deliver you presents every Christmas? You REALLY think such a thing is possible?"  It was the middle of December, and I knew that Scott had already been getting one gift every day for several days, all leading up to the big present he would receive on Hanukkah, which didn't seem like a bad deal to me, so obviously, he didn't need to believe in Santa Claus!  He celebrated Hanukkah, and I celebrated Christmas.  Of COURSE there was such a thing as Santa Claus!

When you're a kid, you have many dreams and fantasies of how your life is going to be when you grow up, and there are many things you can believe in if you let your imagination run wild.  When I was a kid, I thought for sure I'd be a famous actress by now, living in a mansion in Hollywood.  Seems like my dream was a near impossible one, but it reminds me of that quote from "Alice in Wonderland's Through The Looking Glass" where Alice laughs at the White Queen, and says, "There's no use trying...one can't believe impossible things." The White Queen disagrees and responds: "I daresay you haven't had much practice...When I was younger, I always did it for half an hour a day. Why, sometimes I've believed as many as six impossible things before breakfast."  Even though I no longer desire to be a Hollywood actress, I would like to believe that I got so much practice believing in things when I was a child, that I still haven't completely lost my ability to believe in impossible things.

My friend, Tara, once told me that people who are severely depressed have often lost their ability to fantasize and dream and are no longer able to lose themselves in their imagination, and that this is what ultimately leads many of them into feelings of hopelessness and despair.  It makes sense to me because when things get tough, you need to escape into an imaginary world to allow yourself some much-needed respite. If someone has lost his or her ability to escape, then the world and its problems become too much, and he or she can never escape reality or the pain of unpleasant things.  As we get older and more realistic, it becomes even more important to never lose that ability to fantasize and to believe in "impossible things."

So even if you don't believe in Santa Claus anymore and have decided against "crazy" goals such as moving to Hollywood to become a famous actress, it is still important to believe in some near impossible things, for instance, ideas that you can become "The Thinking Man's Danielle Steel" or that someday you MAY even be able to retire!  Scott will definitely be able to retire.  He is a very successful corporate attorney.  But for his sake and sanity, I REALLY hope he hasn't lost his ability to fantasize.

My Life With Marilyn

Now that "Dancing With The Stars" is over, and we know that the "Keeping Up With The Kardashians" show is a fake, what TV event can we look forward to next?  The Oscars!  Well, maybe I'm getting ahead of myself here.  But my current obsession is that I really want to see the movie "My Week With Marilyn" starring Michelle Williams!  Michelle Williams should get the Oscar.  From the clips I've seen of "My Week With Marilyn," it is the real Marilyn Monroe that Michelle Williams plays, not the icon. She studied Marilyn extensively to play this part and even tied a belt around her knees to get Marilyn's "wiggle walk" down. She watched all her films and read up on her on the Internet. It's been said that a man who worked on the original film, "The Prince and The Showgirl" (the film that Marilyn was working on during the "week" she befriended the stage assistant who wrote the book that the current movie is based on) was on the set of "My Week With Marilyn,"  and  apparently, as soon as Michelle Williams came onto the set, he grabbed the person next to him in disbelief and exclaimed, "That's Marilyn!"   If Michelle Williams doesn't at least get an Oscar nomination this February, I will be extremely disappointed!

I actually knew who Marilyn Monroe was before I knew who George Washington was.  We had a huge mirror of her in my parents' bedroom because my dad used to collect Marilyn Monroe memorabilia.  My parents were on a date when they heard the news of Marilyn's death on the car radio.  My mom said they were shocked, but my dad was particularly heartbroken. I used to ask my dad who he loved more, Marilyn or my mom.  To his credit, he always said he loved my mom more, but I was never really sure if I believed him.

Marilyn Monroe was an intelligent woman.  Most agree that comedy is often harder to play than drama.   After many "dumb blond" roles, Marilyn wanted to be known as a serious actress so she moved to New York City to study acting at the famed "Actors Studio." Marilyn always tried to improve herself and was merely playing up her "dumb blond" image, speaking in that high, breathy voice whenever she acted or was being filmed for interviews. One day I heard a tape recording of her speaking in her real voice. It was deeper and didn't contain any of those silly inflections that people identify her with. It really surprised me because she sounded like a completely different person. That's because she was a different person than the general public believed her to be.

Another misconception of her was that she committed suicide. My dad used to say that Marilyn died because of Robert Kennedy.  He read extensively on Marilyn, so I believe he knew. 

Other than "growing up" with Marilyn, I don't know what it is about this film that makes me want to see it so much.  I like movies that show the real side of celebrity.  One of my all-time favorite movie lines is in the movie "Notting Hill" where Julia Roberts plays a famous actress who travels to England and meets bookseller, Hugh Grant, and they befriend each other even though he's initially blinded by her celebrity.  At one point she says something like: "You know, this fame thing,  it isn't real."  That's what I feel this Marilyn movie shows -- a real woman who was not just an image but an actual person with feelings and a very high sensitivity.  With all the fakeness around me, the Kardashians, and ALL the reality TV shows, it is refreshing to finally see something REAL.

Top Ten Reasons You Know You're Getting Older

10. You turn on Classic Rock radio and they're playing music from the 1980's.

9.   It doesn't frighten you to use your cell phone for talking rather than texting.

8.   If you ever lived in a "Real World" house, they'd put you in jail for murder by the end of the season.

7.  You mention "The Brady Bunch" and "Three's Company," and your co-workers have no idea what you're talking about.

6.   The only way you can have a flat stomach is to suck it in.

5.  You find that having a wire constantly sticking out of your ear is strange and rather uncomfortable.

4.  You can remember a time when sex tapes ruined celebrities' careers rather that furthered them.

3.  You used to be hired as an office temp because the company needed temporary help, but now it's because they prefer permanent help from someone who isn't entitled to benefits.

2.  You can in all honesty say you learned to cook from your mother and grandmother not from Rachael Ray and Lidia.

1.  You no longer look at people older than you and say,"I know I will never live like them. Nope, that'll never be me."

The Real Reason Why Halloween Is The Best Holiday

Halloween has gone through many changes since I was a kid.  Each year, we'd go to K-Mart and pick out a costume that came in a box with a see-through cellophane cover that showed the mask inside.  Mostly, the masks were of characters from TV -- Bugs Bunny, Huckleberry Hound, Cinderella.  Also inside the box was a long, sheet-like costume made of silky polyester that you wore over your clothes.  If you didn't wear a costume that came from a box, it was assumed your parents couldn't afford one.  In that case, if you were a girl, you'd put on a dress, some of your mom's gaudy jewelry, and you'd go as a gypsy.  If you were a boy, you'd wear some ripped clothes and smear black make-up on your face and go as a bum. 

These days, it's the opposite.  Homemade costumes are expected, and they are often very elaborate.  If you wear a store-bought costume today, it means you didn't go through the effort to buy the material, sew it yourself, and then shop for all the accessories that go with your costume, eventually  becoming both time-consuming and pricey!

But the biggest change of all that has happened to Halloween is not the costumes but the fact that somewhere along the way adults have claimed the holiday for themselves!  I spent my first few years of adulthood not celebrating Halloween at all until one year, a friend asked me what I was going to be  for Halloween! "Be? I don't go Trick-or-Treating anymore," I answered.  "No, not for Trick-or-Treating, which party are you going to and what are you going to dress up as?" Suddenly, there was this pressure to find a costume again!

My friend Lauren and I did dress up for a college Halloween party one year.  She was a movie star and I was punk opera diva Nina Hagen.  While Lauren did our make-up, she told me that Halloween was actually her favorite holiday because it was the only holiday where she could just go out and have fun and not miss her mom.  Lauren and I had the common bond of losing a parent as a teenager, and it was true that every other holiday consisted of family gatherings and dinners, and every other holiday was tainted with the sadness of us being aware of our missing family member: Thanksgiving, Christmas, and Easter are all geared towards eating and gathering with family but no one has ever had a big Halloween dinner for their family (not yet anyway!).  After college, Lauren and I began the tradition of sending each other Halloween cards every year with only the two of us knowing the special reason behind it.  This is why Halloween is the best holiday. 

Lauren and I have not sent each other Halloween cards for the past several years because, just like Halloween, our lives are constantly evolving.  This year, instead, I'll be sure to send her a special "Happy Halloween" E-Mail or a Spooky Facebook Message!

Bedtime Stories

In the latest Vanity Fair issue, Courtney Love says she thinks one of the reasons her 19 year-old daughter is estranged from her is because she never read to her as a child.  It surprises me that Courtney didn't read to her daughter because usually artistic people like books.  It's important to read to your kids as part of their bedtime routine.  Nowadays, a lot of kids have TVs in their bedrooms and use that to get themselves to sleep.  We have a "No TV In The Bedrooms" rule in our house.  That's not to say we don't watch TV.  The TV is pretty much on all day, every day.  I remember a friend of mine telling me that she recently read about a  family who had the TV on for more than 8 hours a day!  "Oh, we do that," I said.  "It's not that we just sit there and watch it all day, but it's on all day."  It was the same when I was a kid.  But I didn't have a TV in my bedroom back then either. My parents read to me every night.

First my mom would come in, and I'd get to pick one of my books from my bookshelf.  Then my dad would come in, but he preferred to make up his own stories or to tell me condensed kid-friendly versions of  his personal favorites.  Considering that his two favorite books were Joyce's "Ulysses" and Melville's "Moby Dick," I guess "The Runaway Pancake" was not really entertaining enough for him.

This has become part of my family history. My dad's cousin, Terry, often tells me about the night she was was visiting and took his place in my bedtime routine while my dad was involved in one of their super-competitive Monopoly games.  I told her then that since she was taking my dad's place, she couldn't read me a story, she had to make one up!  She said she thought, "Make one up?  You have to really work hard for this kid!"

First, he'd ask me to tell him the names of some of the kids in my class, and then he'd make up the story.  I remember one story had a bunch of us in a house that was on fire, but one of the kids got a hose, and we were all running around, but we managed to put out the fire in time.  One night he told me about Steinbeck's "The Pearl," the story of a poor fisherman whose son gets bit by a scorpion, but he can't afford to pay the doctor until he finds a giant pearl that seems to solve all his problems. Of course, it just makes his life worse because he becomes greedy, and the novella teaches us a lesson concerning good vs. evil.  My father's stories usually ended in a lesson of some sort, probably due to the fact that he was a teacher! 

Another night, he told me about Hawthorne's "The Scarlet Letter."  He said that the lady in the book was being accused of adultery and had to wear the letter "A" on the outside of her dress, over her heart.  Nobody knew which man in town she was unfaithful with.  But of course the man knew, and because of this, he had his own letter "A," but it was on the inside of his heart. Eventually, this caused his heart to die because he kept his secret and all of his feelings of guilt and shame inside of him.  My dad said that everyone always thought the woman had it worse because she had to stand outside being taunted in front of the whole town wearing that big letter "A," but it was really the man who had it worse all along.  I often think of the message of that story when situations come up in my own life. That it's better to let your feelings out than to hide them. I doubt that Dora could give me as good of a lesson as that!