Leanette—2007!  I’m so sorry.  You are right.  We just have to hang in there until…well, until. 

I’ll be excited when decent jobs are available.   I’ve been laid off for 10 months and counting. 

With all due respect, Margo, you haven’t the faintest idea what it is like to work as a temp in an office and should not be giving advice on that subject.  Temps are easily replaceable.  The guy with the disgusting conversations could very well be doing that to get rid of the temp—I have seen worse behavior.  HR will get rid of the temp and the guy might get a slap on the wrist.  Might.

Baby Snooks—IMO, she knew.  She has to report every expenditure over $100 because the state is, and has been preparing a case against her, for a while.  Innocent people aren’t treated that way.   There are people who believe that she is guilty simply by association, and getting an unfair shake, but I am not one of them.  I believe she was an active participant.  Some people are wired like sociopaths and it is difficult to understand how anyone could be that callous, but callous they are. 

Je ne comprends pas.  Who is Eleanor Jones, why is she a "knitting machine," and why is that bad? 

Great Expectations in the Midst of a Recession—played by a young Elizabeth Taylor.  Hey!  I can dream.  This is my movie, after all.

I don’t know about you folks, but having grown up in a very small town Upstate, then living in NYC—I would take the really small town anytime.  The price of a house in Butner, NC would barely buy a studio apartment here.  This slideshow made me yearn for the simpler life—yard sales, dinner at 5PM, affordable housing, sigh.

Now, Ruth Madoff—I think she is just as guilty as her husband.  What wife gives lavish parties at several homes not wondering, "Gosh, honey, where did we get all this money?  My paycheck didn’t cover this…this is just too much to be legal. …"  Get used to the simple life, Ruth.  Except for the husband-in-prison part, I envy her trek to NC.

This article doesn’t mention the men who father the children.  If the men attached to these mythical women took a more active role in parenting, women wouldn’t have to feel like they need to be superheroes.  In my mother’s generation one stayed at home with the kids.  When my father died she had no idea how to earn a paycheck.  She changed overnight into a scared shell of her former vital self.  Then she died a year later, most probably from the stress of raising five children and finding work at 42 years of age, with no prior experience except that of juggling the lives of seven people—an incredible superhero skill that didn’t count as a skill back then.  This is ancient history to me now, over four decades later, but when I was very young I understood the dynamics of this arrangement and realized I had to be the person who supported myself—because I literally had no one to lean on but me.  I decided at that very early age not to have children.  The men who have stayed in my life supported that decision. 

Liz—I thought Bonwit Teller was coming back to NYC.  There was a lot of talk about that, but then again, with the economy, this is not a great time.  I loved Bonwit’s when it was attached to Trump Tower on 56th and 5th—that lovely canopy with the painted violets—and the waterfall room to sit down, have a bite and rest one’s feet.  I was upset when that was gone.  I still have their charge card with the trademark violets. 

I had a boyfriend who drove a checker cab.  They were so roomy—remember the pullout seat in the back?  Now we have those awful televisions—some new things are far from improvements.

Baby Snooks—I love that!  The art of rhetoric is being replaced with the art of rabidness.  That is quotable, and so evident in every context that it needs no explanation. 

I think the really big news on this Friday is our President winning the Nobel Peace Prize.  Historically, I believe two seated and one former President have won this honor, and now it Obama’s turn to take the trip to Oslo.  Congratulations, Mr. President, congratualtions.

I have a great Polaroid camera collecting dust; it was top of the line just a few years ago.  It would be great to get film for it.  I used to love to pass it around at dinner parties, then pass around the pix, and have an instant record of what others photographed—I love those old pix.  I guess I will have to get aquainted with the digital camera in its box on the shelf. 

When I was a kid my older sister had a really early version of the Polaroid called "the Swinger" that required swiping a stinky chemical over the photograph to develop it.  The pictures were always poor quality and smeared. 

Frank—Over 20+ years later, it’s still a classic, dressy coat.  I never regretted buying it—great quality investment.  You are right about its worth. 

I really miss the Chock Full O’ Nuts lunch counters, especially the one in Herald Square.  For less than a dollar, you could get a big mug of fantastic coffee and enough elbow room to settle down with a good book.  (I never cared for cream cheese—but I know many people liked those strange little sandwiches they had.)

Chock Full o’Nuts is that heavenly coffee,

heavenly coffee, heavenly coffee

Chock Full o’Nuts is that heavenly coffee,

Better coffee a millionaire’s money can’t buy.

  

I miss E.J. Korvettes, Gimbels (they actually created the Thanksgiving Day Parade—predated Macy’s by four years), and B. Altman, where I bought my first "investment" wool winter coat ($400 seemed exorbitant back then).

I also miss actual people working the subway token booths.  The elimination of tokens has made subways more efficient (maybe), but scarier place at odd hours knowing no official staff is there.