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Showing posts from 2016

Boomer Girl Review: Lea & Perrins Marinade for Chicken

If you're looking for a terrific way to give your turkey gravy some zip, this is the condiment for you, my friends. My secret weapon, which is always on hand in the fridge to jazz up fish and chicken dishes, was formerly sold as White Wine Worcestershire Sauce. (I'm guessing the Lea & Perrins people couldn't pronounce 'Worcestershire' just like the rest of us.) With its delectable blend of herbs, spices and white wine, you can even deglaze a roaster pan with it, although I recommend adding more white wine to do the job.

And, yes, I am making my gravy a full day early this year. Nobody wants to relive my panic attack from last year when the gravy refused to thicken while I whisked frantically - sweat pouring from my brow - as my extended family looked on in horror.

Boomer Girl Review: Simply Christmas by Leslie Odom, Jr.

I have a hard and fast rule about not playing holiday music until we start decorating the tree on Thanksgiving weekend. This year, I made an exception. For Leslie. Because I love him. There. Now you know.

Leslie Odom, Jr., one of the stars of Broadway's "Hamilton" (which I was fortunate enough to see in New York on my 60th birthday last year) has a voice that could melt the coldest heart.  Just as melted-buttery-good as Nat King Cole, Tony Bennett, Johnny Mathis and all the greats. This delightfully under-produced album (as Christmas albums go) has only 9 songs, but each one is a gem. Oh, but don't take my word for it. Listen for yourself and, then, just for grins, watch Leslie himself singing "Autumn Leaves" as a special Thanksgiving treat....



Now, do you see why I love him? Why I'm so thankful he's in my life?

Happy Thanksgiving, Leslie! And happy Thanksgiving to you, friends!

Post-election Productivity Syndrome (PPS)

Well, here it is almost a month since I last posted. Where does the time go? Into pre- and post-election obsession, that's where. I had been so preoccupied with the presidential race, it was all I could do to perform my part-time job and the most basic personal hygiene thanks to the non-stop storylines and spin. I'm a self-confessed news junkie, but it felt less heaven and more hell. Still, I couldn't cut it off.

Then, something happened on Election Night that was nothing short of an ah-ha moment. As I sat there Tuesday evening, clutching a Bota Box of Redvolution (highly recommended) between my legs, I said to myself, "BoomerGirl, you need to go to bed before they call this thing. Your eyes are puffy enough without the ugly cry. Then, get up in the morning, make yourself a pot of coffee and redecorate the freaking family room."

And that's what I did, dammit.

While they marched the streets in New York....
And in my hometown...

I painted...and painted... and p…

Do you swear to tell the truth...?

I survived my annual physical last week which, in itself, is no small victory. This was the first year I didn't "cram for the test," as my son would say. The 35-year-old man-of-sudden-wisdom recently challenged me, saying: "Mom. How will you know what's really going on with you if you act like someone else for a month before your exam?"

Hard to argue with logic like that. And, okay, it's probably not the best idea to curtail all of one's bad habits (drinking booze, eating carbs and couch-surfing) weeks before the "well person visit" in hopes of ace-ing the lab work and avoiding bad news.

But it was working for me so well, dammit!

This year, I changed nothing about my lifestyle (which is, admittedly, a lot healthier than it used to be, Shiraz and carbs notwithstanding,) bit the bullet and had my blood drawn. I answered all of my doctor's questions truthfully and took my lumps when applicable. ("You know wine has calories, right?&q…

Going GF OR Thank God for TJ's Oatmeal

I've officially - and finally - declared myself 100% gluten free. I've been in d'Nile for months (it's a long river, doncha know) but reality literally gut-punched me for the last time this past weekend when I ate a negligible amount of breading on fish and felt like a miserable, gassy presidential candidate for two days. I'm 60. Life's too short for avoidable pain. Which is why I really should stop obsessing about the miserable gassy groper. Besides, I'm determined to keep my blog apolitical. (How am I doing?)
     Now, I'm coming to terms with my new life "without." Without pasta, whiskey, hot-out-of-the-oven popovers on Christmas Eve, cake, fried chicken....the list is depressingly long. But, hey, I'm a creative and resourceful person. A former reporter, for crying out loud. I can find the restaurants that accommodate the gluten-less and research the best GF recipes ever created. (They'll be the BEST, believe me! My recipe file…

YouTube and the curse of beginner's luck

Long before I heard George W. Bush discuss how painting had changed his life, I bought several stretched canvases at Michael's for 70% off.  I already had a basic starting kit of acrylic paints and decent brushes, sponges and stuff. So, I set everything up in my son's old room last week and decided to give the visual arts a try. (I had taken an all-day watercolor class last year and had learned many tips, including watercolor is probably not the best medium for a beginner.)     This time, I decided to attend the YouTube School of Painting, dialed up this instructional video on how to paint birch trees with a palette knife and basically did the old monkey-see-monkey-do routine.  Five hours later, give or take, I had a painting good enough to hang anywhere....in my daughter's apartment, that is.     Motivated by her willingness to accept it and my husband's raves at my obvious God-given talent, I eagerly choose the next piece to, well, copy. This one, found on Pinte…

Friday in the Hall with George

The hubs and I took the day off last Friday to attend a convention put on by our wealth management firm.

Let me just say here that "wealth" is a relative term and of the approximate 2000 people in attendance, we were obviously in a lower tier of clientele - wealth-wise, wardrobe-wise and age-wise.  But, we thought we could learn something from the big players, maybe score some free food. And while we've never been fans, we didn't want to miss hearing what former president and keynote speaker, George W. Bush, had to say about the upcoming election.

Helicopters hovered overhead as we walked back to the convention hall after lunch. A formidable police presence surrounded the building.  It was easy to spot the Secret Service agents in the crowd because they skewed so much younger than the civilians.

And, then there was George. It was a laid-back Q & A session with the expected questions. No, he does not regret the decision to go to war in Iraq. Yes, he regrets the w…

Planet Fitness and the Beauty Angel

When Planet Fitness opened up five minutes from my house, I dusted off the old jogging bra and sprinted over to sign up. Why wouldn't I? It was $10/month to join with no initiation fee (at the time) and, besides, I'm a champ at signing up for fitness centers. There isn't a gym in town I haven't tried, at least for two or three days.

Planet Fitness has a 'big tent' marketing approach that discourages obnoxious gym rats and encourages couch potatoes and everyone in-between. Signs placed around the facility say: You Belong, No Judgment and No Gymtimidation. As a result - or maybe because the price is so low - members run the gamut in all shapes, sizes, ages, colors and fashion sense. I love that about the place.

At first, I couldn't figure out why it was so cheap. The place is huge and well staffed, the equipment seems top-of-the-line and what they spend in cleaning products could break the bank. This is a sparkling facility with comfy rubber flooring (bonus!)…

The day that will live in infamy, if only he can remember it.

Yesterday, I promised to share this story in light of the YUGE news of the Brangelina break-up. (Is it still news today? I haven't checked.) I knew I had told it before and, in fact, it appears I told it twice: Once in 2009 before this blog existed and again in 2011 when my husband inexplicably forgot he went swimming with a topless movie star while swapping stories on a boys' weekend. (This is so typical of him, I can't tell you.) The versions are slightly different, as one would expect as the years pass, but the truth remains. Someone will no doubt tell this story at his funeral someday (decades from now, I hope) because it is so uniquely him: Refreshingly unassuming and far more impressed by female nakedness than celebrity.

One more time with feeling

As Elton John once famously said, the bitch's blog is back. Not that anyone will read it with the hot Brangelina divorce news breaking. Stunning! Tragic! So unexpected! I'm reeling, dear readers!

(Did I ever tell you the story of my husband swimming alone with a topless Angelina Jolie at the Sunset Marquis Hotel shortly after she won her Oscar for "Girl Interrupted?" I'm sure I did. It's one of my best stories. And it's 100% true, unlike some of my other best stories. I'll have to dig that little nugget up again for tomorrow's post.)

My extended hiatus was necessary to allow me time to complete a big project (a play) and to regain my enthusiasm for the whole blogging experience which, after so many years, was becoming a bit of a self-absorbing drag. The truth is, I didn't think I had much more to say.

But, shit happened and now I do.

In the past several months, I have become a mental health advocate, a dedicated practitioner of net-zero-injur…