WRITING SONNETS

Dear George, 

I just finished my OLLI class in writing sonnets. I thought this would be simple and straightforward, but the task was harder than I expected. Sonnets have so many strict rules that writing one is a real challenge. The Sicilian poet Giacomo da Lentini is believed to have invented the sonnet in the 13th century, while the Italian poet Francesco Petrarca (known as Petrarch) is given credit for bringing the sonnet to the forefront of Renaissance literature. The two main traditional types are Petrarchan and Shakespearian sonnets, although modern sonnets can depart from various aspects of these forms. 

Sonnet means “little song” in Italian, a reference the musicality in its use of rhyme and meter. Petrarchan sonnets are 14-line poems written in iambic pentameter (ta-DA ta-DA ta-DA ta-DA ta-DA). The 14 lines are divided into two sections: an octave (the first 8 lines) and a sestet (the final 6 lines). The octave is known as the Proposition (which presents a problem or question), and the sestet is the Resolution (which resolves the problem or gives a new perspective. The rhyme scheme for the octave is ABBA ABBA. The most common rhyme scheme for the sestet is CDECDE, although other variations are also used, e.g., CDCDCD or CDDCDC. Here is my attempt at writing a Petrarchan sonnet. 

THE GIRL OF MY DREAMS 

Eighteen, the college mixer, freshman year. 

I saw this sparkly girl across the way.

So filled with smiles and laughs, so pert, so gay. 

“I’ll marry her,” my impulse was sincere. 

But months went by, my shyness was so clear. 

I ran into the girl most every day 

but never spoke a word, to my dismay. 

My soul was dying from felt pain and fear. 

But just by chance, a fluke brought me to her, 

Milwaukee, we were off on coop jobs 

I went to see good friends, the girl was there 

We talked and laughed, that time is still a blur. 

You might have thought we’d always been heartthrobs 

Our wedding was a glorious affair. 

The sonnet form was adopted and enthusiastically embraced by the English in the Elizabethan period, most notably by Shakespeare who gave it the structure we commonly think of today: 14 lines of rhymed iambic pentameter. In the Shakespearean sonnet, there are three quatrains (four-line stanzas) and then a couplet (a two-line stanza). The rhyme scheme in a Shakespearian sonnet is: ABAB CDCD EFEF GG. Here is my example: 

RIVERSIDE BOULEVARD 

We moved to Riverside in forty-six 

Hardly a boulevard, a gravel road 

Occupied by chipmunks, horseflies, and ticks 

Our Norway pine house, the only abode 

The city dump, a half mile to the east 

I’d go with dad, find good stuff for our house 

Next door, the cemetery, corpses deceased 

A million times, I’ve gone there with my spouse 

The Brewery Park, a quarter mile from home. 

And Mason Park, way at the other end 

The parks were places we would often roam 

Or camp out with my brother and my friend 

Riverside Boulevard, the street of dreams 

Where life was even better than it seems 

Modern sonnets are inspired by the Shakespearian form, but they loosen up the restrictions. For example, they may or may not use iambic pentameter, and they may or many not rhyme. Most have fourteen lines, but poets occasionally depart from this rule. Here is my example of a modern sonnet: 

IKO 

Little Iko grew up in New Orleans 

The beloved pet at a Tulane Ave brothel 

But then he ran away, became a street dog 

Till the dogcatcher locked him in the kennel 

Justin and Kiersta rescued the sweet Schnauzer 

Brought him to their house on South Cortez 

When the pandemic hit, they drove to Cincy 

Before we knew it, we now owned a dog 

Iko sleeps in our bed till ten or eleven 

Then has a morning wrestle, his happiest time 

We walk around the block four times a day 

Watch TV as a family on the sofa 

We’d expected to never have another pooch 

But, thank the stars, Iko showed up at our home 

I have to write a lot more sonnets to become more proficient. If I’m successful, perhaps I’ll post a few here in the future.

Love, 

Dave

MOTHERS' DAY 2025

Dear George, 

Here we are at another Mothers’ Day, definitely the most sentimental day of the year.  My mother, Doris, passed away in 1986 at the age of 76.  Her last years were pretty miserable.  Crippled by circulation problems, depressed, and relying on booze to soothe her pain, she spent a lot of time as a virtual recluse at Farm, our parents’ beloved retirement home.  All of that pain and suffering was the total opposite of most of her adult life in which she was a vivacious, razzmatazz sort of woman.  

Doris grew up as a flapper in the 1920’s, and one of her cardinal values was having fun.  She worried that her children didn’t have as much fun as she and Vic (my dad) had, and I’m sure she was right.  Doris and Vic had a wonderful group of friends, and they got together regularly for parties of all sorts — art parties, poetry parties, music parties, theater parties, and especially costume parties.  Doris loved entertaining, and there was a constant flow of friends into our house,  We children were beneficiaries, since that frequently meant getting together with other kids.  

Doris felt at home when we moved to the country, since she was basically a nature lover.  She planted and maintained a luxurious garden along the west wall of our lawn, and taught me to watch the hummingbirds darting among the flowers.  She supplied a bird feeder outside our dining room window, taught us the names of all the birds, and kept an ongoing list of all the birds she saw during the day.  She and Vic traipsed around the county, bringing home wildflowers to transplant, and for Vic to paint watercolors of.  

Our two Irish Setters, Mike and Micki, were a big part of Doris’s life, and she adored them.  One time she had to go to the hospital for a nasty gash in her arm when she tried to break up a fight between the dogs.  And, as I wrote about recently, she risked her life to save Mike when he fell through the ice on the river.  In her later years Doris had a white Persian cat named Lovely, and she was as fond of the cat as she’d been of the dogs.  

Doris and Vic went on annual trips with friends to see the Metropolitan Opera in Minneapolis, and they went sailboating with friends in the annual Mackinac Island boat race.  They also took us kids each year on a trip to Chicago where we took in the Art Institute, the Museum of Science and Industry, the Maxwell St. Flea Market, and the Kungsholm Restaurant where we enjoyed Swedish smorgasbord.  Our trip to Mexico City in 1952 was a highlight of my brother Steven’s and my young lives.  

Doris performed in community theater, participated in Great Books discussion groups, played bridge with friends, belonged to a long-standing book club, and was a member of the D.A.R. (which she didn’t like to admit).  She was also a super cook: turkey, pot roast, liver sausage, meatloaf, and especially whitefish, caught locally in Green Bay and Lake Michigan.  Thanksgiving and Easter were big meals, and Christmas was the major highlight when our whole extended family joined us.  On my last trip to Farm, she taught me to cook broiled whitefish so I could carry on the tradition.

As a dedicated homemaker, Doris spent a lot of time with her four children: Steven, Peter, Vicki, and myself.  After having three boys, she was thrilled to finally have a girl, and Vicki got special attention.  We weren’t allowed to go swimming until Doris was in the front yard lawn chair, acting as our lifeguard.  She held mini-therapy sessions for Steven and I about bullying, fighting, and sibling jealousy, though it was never very successful.  Most of all, our mother was filled with laughs and was lots of fun.  

In her final days at Marinette General Hospital, her four children flew in from around the country.  I think Doris was shocked by the realization of what that meant.  In her waning hours she asked Peter and I to leave her room so she could be alone.  We stood in the hospital corridor for a while, unsure what to do, and finally went back in.  Doris said, “I’m grateful.”  I think those were her final words.  Having all led happy and successful lives, I’d say we children have also been grateful for many years.  Happy Mothers’ Day, Mom.

Love,

Dave

 

OLD AGE TRIVIA

 

Dear George, 

One of my favorite projects these days is using Google and/or Gemini to scour the Internet and accumulate information on some topic of interest. Aging and death are my favorite topics these days, so here are some of the curious facts I’ve run across. 

Love, 

Dave 

 

                                         BASIC INFO 

 

Size.  The elderly population in the U.S. is growing rapidly, the decade from 2010 to 2020 seeing the fastest growth in persons aged 65 and over since the 1880’s. Demographers predict that the 65 and over population will grow from 59 million in 2023 to nearly 95 million in 2060. 

Who is old?  In the 1950’s “old age” was considered to begin around the mid-60s or even earlier for manual laborers. Today many people in their 60s are considered to be “middle aged”, while “old age” is perceived to begin around 74. 

Stages.  Gerontologists distinguish three stages of “old age”: young-old (65-74; healthier, more active); middle-old (75-84; more age-related health issues); and old-old (85 and older; significant health challenges, frailty). 

                                           LIFE EXPECTANCY 

U.S. life expectancy.  Life expectancy in the U.S. has increased dramatically from 47 years in 1900 to 78.4 years in 2023. Despite spending the most on health care, life expectancy in the U.S. ranks last among wealthy, developed countries (mainly because of smoking and obesity). 

Rich vs. poor.  Disparities in life expectancy between rich and poor Americans have been growing over time, with current studies indicating that the richest 1% of Americans live 7 years longer than the poorest 50%. This gap between rich and poor has been increasing in recent decades. 

Poverty.  In 1959 the poverty rate in the U.S. for adults 65 and older was 35%. Thanks to Medicare and better Social Security benefits, the senior poverty rate in 2023 was 10.1%, lower than the rates for children under 18 (15.3%) and adults aged 18-64 (11.1%). Rates for Hispanics and African-Americans are 3 times higher than for whites. 

Gender gap.  The gender gap in life expectancy is decreasing. In 1990 men were expected to live 7 fewer years than women. By 2017 the gap had gone down to five years (76 vs. 81 years). 

                                                    DECLINE 

Disease.  95% of older adults have at least one chronic disease, e.g., diabetes, arthritis, high blood pressure, and nearly 80% have two or more. 

Doctors.  People 75 and over visit the doctor 3 times as often as those 22-44.   

Falls.  One of four older adults fall each year. Falls are the leading cause of fatal and nonfatal injuries among older adults. 

Pain.  25% of seniors have chronic pain, including up to 80% of those in nursing homes. 

Hearing and vision loss.  About 22% of people ages 65-74 have disabling hearing loss; over age 75, about 55%. One seventh of seniors with hearing impairment use hearing aids. Vision loss also increases with age. One study found that visual impairment increased from 6.2% for ages 75-79 to 36.9% for those 90 and older. 

Sleep.  50-70% of individuals over age 65 report chronic sleep problems (less total sleep time, lighter sleep, increased nighttime awakenings) vs. 15-22% for the general population. By age 65, deep sleep drops to about 5% of sleep time. 

Shrinking.  The vertebrae in one’s spine get closer together as people age, making them about one or two inches shorter. 

Drooping.   Because of gravity people’s noses and ears begin to droop as they get older.   

Cognitive decline.  Various cognitive abilities tend to peak and then decline in early to middle adulthood: information processing speed (declines after age 19); short-term memory (after age 25); face recognition (early 30s); numerical skills (age 40); understanding other people’s emotional states (40s or 50s); vocabulary (as late as 60s or early 70s). 

Dementia.  Nearly half of people over age 85 develop some form of dementia. 

Loneliness.  Older adults are at greater risk for loneliness and social isolation, but it’s not a universal experience. Studies suggest that up to 32% of people over 55 report feeling lonely at any given time.  

Social activity.   In their pioneering study, Life Beyond 85 Years, Johnson and Bauer found that reduced socialization by the over-85s does not harm their well-being. Rather, they “welcome increased detachment.” 

Assisted care.  About 3.6% of elderly people live in assisted care facilities. Even for those 85 and over, the number is only 9%. 

Suicide.  People 85+ have a higher rate of suicide than any other age group (23 deaths per 100,000). Men die by suicide 4 times more often than women. 

Individual differences.  The aging process is a highly individualized experience, with major differences observed between individuals of the same chronological age. Some persons decline rapidly in physical abilities with age, while others maintain high levels of physical functioning well into old age. Likewise for cognitive abilities, social engagement, and emotional well-being. 

                                                                    LIFESTYLE

Exercise.  Physical Activity Guidelines for the elderly recommend 150 minutes of moderate intensity exercise per week. National surveys indicate that between 27% and 44% of older adults meet these guidelines. About 1 in 3 men and 1 in 2 women don’t get any physical exercise. 

TV.  People over 65 watch TV about 4 hours a day, about twice as much as those aged 15-44.  

Welk fans.  Regular viewers of “The Lawrence Welk Show” on public television are predominantly 65 and over (74% in one survey). 

Internet.  ore than any other age group (averaging 33 hours a month). 

Driving.  Drivers 65 and older are more likely to wear their seat belts and drive the speed limit, less likely to drink and drive, and are involved in fewer total accidents than younger age groups (though they are at more risk of a fatal injury in a crash). 

Voting.  Individuals 60 and over cast their ballots more than any other age group. 

Guns. 33% to 42% of older adults (65+) own guns, a higher rate than younger adults. 

Marathons.  In 2011 100-year-old British national Fauja Singh completed the 26-mile Toronto marathon, becoming the first centenarian to do so. 

The afterlife.  Americans’ beliefs in an afterlife increase with age. 

Scams.  In 2023 the FBI reported over 101,000 complaints from individuals age 60 and older about internet crimes, with reported losses exceeding $3.4 billion. Another 2023 study found that 75% of adults aged 50-80 reported experiencing a scam attempt in the past two years. 

                                                          REWARDS 

Rewards.  Rewards associated with elderly years include: more free time and time for loved ones; increased contentment and life satisfaction; enhanced self-acceptance; reduced stress; a better handle on emotions; wisdom and perspective. 

Happiness.  Recent studies indicate that older persons (60 and over) tend to report greater happiness than young and middle-aged adults. Happiness in old age has been linked to an increased focus on the present (vs. future aspirations), better emotional regulation skills, priority given to close relationships, acceptance and wisdom, and the “positivity effect” (older adults tending to remember positive information more).  

Pets.  Research consistently shows that elderly people who own dogs or cats experience increased happiness and well-being. Benefits included a reduced sense of isolation, a sense of purpose, someone to interact with, reduced stress, increased physical activity, tactile comfort, and a daily routine of caring for a pet. 

Super agers.   Researchers estimate that fewer than 10% of elderly persons are “super agers”, i.e., those who have memory performance comparable to individuals 20 to 30 years younger. 

Futurists.  Many futurists predict significant increases in average and maximum human lifespans in the future. For example, computer scientist Ray Kurzweil proposes that AI’s revolutionizing of medicine could potentially halt aging by 2032. 

Conclusions.  Old age is a mixed bag. There is great diversity in people’s experiences in their seventies and beyond. For some, the seventies and eighties are “the golden years”; for others, times of unending pain and stress. The key factors seem to be health and financial security. When one is healthy and financially secure, the older years offer many rewards. With ill health and poverty, the reverse is likely.

CHINESE BELLS DAY

Dear George, 

When my dad returned at the end of World War II, our family moved out to the country on the shore of the Menominee River. There were no other kids within a mile, and the river became the center of our universe. Swimming all summer long, boating in the autumn. The river froze in early December. We chopped holes in the ice to see how thick it was, and when it reached three inches we were allowed to walk across to Pig Island. Sometimes I did winter camping there, pitching my tent on a bed of pine boughs. Skating, sledding, ice fishing, hiking — the river was nearly as much fun in the winter as in the summer. 

By mid-March temperatures began to rise, the ice softened, and our parents told us not to. go out on it. One day, though, our Irish Setter Mike went for a walk on the ice, and he fell through about thirty feet from the shore. Our mother, home alone with us kids, ordered us to stay in the house, grabbed her winter coat, and raced out to the riverbank. She crawled on her stomach to where Mike was flailing in the freezing water, about to go under. We watched in terror from the dining room window. Grabbing him under his front legs, Mother pulled the 70-pound water-logged dog out of the water, and they made it back to the riverbank and into the house. That was the day our mother became our heroine forever after. 

All 180 miles of the river’s ice went out on a single day in late March or early April, the millions of tiny chunks rubbing together and making an enormous non-stop tinkling sound. My father named it Chinese Bells Day. Every year we carved the date of Chinese Bells Day into the Norway Pine wall that separated our living and dining rooms. The flowing river snatched up flotsam and jetsam along the shore as it made its way to the mouth at Green Bay — tin cans, bottles, stuffed animals, canoe paddles, etc. I put on the hip-waders that my grandfather had used for trout fishing and stepped into the ice flow near the riverbank, trying to haul in floating items with a bamboo pole. I’d always snag a few oddities, but never any true treasures. 

Aside from Christmas, Chinese Bells Day was the most significant holiday of the year for us children. A change in our physical environment, and it signaled the transition from winter to the upcoming swimming/boating season. I left for college at 18, my parents sold the river house in the early seventies, and I never experienced Chinese Bells Day in person again. Though we now live 600 miles away, I do still celebrate Chinese Bells Day in my mind every year at this time. 

Love, 

Dave

OO LA LA, SPRING IS HERE

 

Dear George, 

It's hard to believe but our long winter is finally coming to an end. The wall lizards have returned to our patio, yellow and violet wildflowers are popping up on our lawn, and we've enjoyed a week of weather in the seventies. A boost to the spirits. 

Our last several weeks have been dominated by Katja's stomach surgery. She woke with severe pain on a Friday morning, saw the doctor, and was rushed to Emergency and then to surgery. The operation took from ten p.m to one a.m. The surgeon was elated afterward. When I asked if it were non-serious, he shook his hesd and said they had been very scared. I'm glad I didn't ask beforehand. As I understand it, her small intestine got twisted from prior scar tissue and was blocking her digestive tract. Katja spent eight days in the hospital. She was happiest when I brought her her own pillow from home and chocolate pastries fron United Dairy Farmer. 

Iko and I did all right at home alone. I liked being in charge of things, like not playing the radio all night and turning the lights off when I left the room. The biggest problem was Iko's sleeping arrangement. He normally sleeps in our bed, but he will only let Katja lift him up to be there. If I try, he gets very agitated and tries to bite me, having drawn blood a half dozen times. So he slept in his bed on the floor (and didn't seem too bothered by it). Worst of all, when Katja came home, she wasn't allowed to lift more than ten pounds, so Iko is still confined to his own lonely bed. 

My biggest problem these days is my computer. I am writing this on my iPad because my computer has been in the repair shop for six weeks. The guy keeps telling me it will be ready any day, but that hasn't happened to date. I'm tired of going over there, so I'm sticking with the iPad. I just hope I haven't lost everything in my computer files. 

The worst thing, of course, is the new administration. In my view, everything they have done to date is a disaster.  I don’t want these politicos to ruin my remaining years.  It's hard to believe they've only been in office for two months -- it feels like two years. When my father was in his seventies, he got so fed up with national politics that he decided to not listen to or read the news. I thought that was a mistake at the time, but now I'm of like  mind. I haven't watched TV news or listened to the radio for six weeks or more. I do scan the daily New York Times, but that's about it. 

I've also been distressed by my friend Bill F’s recent death. Bill and I came to the university about the same time in the late 1960's, and we've been friends for over half a century, most recently taking the form of occasional lunches and catching up at Ruth's Parkside Restaurant. Bill was very bright and had a dry sense of humor. He's enjoyed boing a sculptor in his retirement. I'll miss him. 

One of my poetry classmates showed me the heart icon on my Apple iPhone where my daily steps are recorded. I had read in the newspaper that 6,000 to 8,000 steps a day are prescribed for my age group, and I was dismayed that I was only averaging 4,000. Having a numerical record is very motivating to me, and I've started walking Iko more and doing zumba to a YouTube video at home. I'm averaging 6,200 steps per day and hope to get up to 8.000 soon. 

All in all, we're doing well. Katja's recovery is proceeding normally, my annual physical was fine, and we're enjoying spring break from our OLLI classes. We miss our family but hope to get together in the summer. 

Love, 

Dave

THE ELECTRIC BIKE

 Dear George,

I’m still befuddled.  Weeks ago I noticed a gigantic cardboard box on our front porch. “Electric Bike” was marked on the side. ‘Clearly a delivery mistake’ I thought to myself. But there was my wife Katja’s name and our home address on the shipping label. What can this be?  Who is this for?

Confused and grumpy all day, I finally asked about the box at the dinner table.  “It’s my new bike,” Katja said proudly.  “I bought it for my Christmas present.  I won’t be driving the car any more. I’ll go everywhere on my bike.”

I was in a state of shock.  Katja grew up in center city Philadelphia and has never ridden a regular bike.  How would she learn to ride an electric bike?  “It’s so easy,” Katja said.  “You just get on and push a button.”

I don’t feel I can tell Katja what to do, but I thought this was a terrible idea.  I’ve long been frightened for the college students who ride electric bikes on our street where drivers regularly go 40 miles per hour.  And I couldn’t imagine where Katja would go. Her main shopping destinations are Rookwood Commons and Kenwood Towne Centre, both many miles away.  “Yes, I‘ll go to Rookwood. There are lots of bike paths.”  I explained how dangerous I felt it would be and how I would live in mortal terror every time she went out.  

Katja mulled it over for hours. I think my expression of abject fear hit home. Much to her credit, she finally decided to send the bike back.   Though I felt like the Grinch who stole Christmas, I breathed a sigh of relief.  The UPS guy came the next week, and the bike is now back home in California.  Katja is still sad about this. But how many retired oldies do you see riding electric bikes about town?  My wife, a living legend. 

Love,

Dave

A PRETTY STRANGE (BUT TERRIFIC) VISIT

 
Dear George, 

Our son Justin came up from New Orleans for the three-day Martin Luther King Jr. weekend. His kids, Alex and Leo, now 16, were home alone, the first time they’d done that other than a one-night stay, but Justin was confident they’d do fine. On Saturday we did the thrift shops, the Clifton Cultural Arts Center (“Fiber is Art”), and the new Tony Trabert Indoor Tennis Complex at Walnut Hills High, plus lunch at Skyline Chili, and dinner at Seasons 52 (Chilean sea bass for Justin, rainbow trout for Katja, and butterfish for me). On Sunday Justin went to the gym, then had brunch with friends. He and I went to the art museum but couldn't get into the Anselm Adams exhibit in its final day. 

Monday morning Justin had coffee with his cousin Chris, and we dropped him off at the airport at noon for his return home. However, his flight to New Orleans was cancelled, and he took an Uber back to our house at 5 p.m. He called the kids. They seemed to be managing all right. 

On Tuesday Justin had made a new flight reservation, but, because of the record-breaking Southern storm, all flights to and from New Orleans were cancelled. We did more thrift shops, watched “The Edge of War” with Jeremy Irons. Alex was sick, and Justin was very worried, but they had no fever and felt better by the next day. 

On Wednesday Justin had scheduled his third flight home but it too was cancelled. He met Katja’s pain doctor, visited his cousin Chris and his family, and we watched “American Primeval” and “The Stranger”. 

On Thursday Justin finally got a nonstop flight to New Orleans on Allegiant. Of course, it too was promptly cancelled. We had lunch at Ruth's Parkside Cafe, dinner at Biaggio’s, and watched “The Conclave” on Amazon. 

On Friday, four days later than planned, Justin made a reservation with American Airlines, and, miracle of miracles, it actually took off. The kids had eaten nothing but pasta and beans all week long, so he encouraged them to go out to a restaurant for lunch. Katja and I bought some booze at the Party Source and headed home. I missed Justin, but Katja was happy that he was getting back to the children. He was a great help to us around the house, and, as always, we found it a joy to be together. Since we got to say goodbye five days in a row it was a one-of-a-kind visit. 

 Love, 

 Dave

CHRISTMAS IN MANHATTAN

 Dear George, 

In our younger married years Katja and I regularly spent the holidays with Ami and Bruce, her sister and brother-in-law, in their Upper West Side condo in New York City. Many happy memories, though it’s been a long time since we’ve done this together. This year it was time for a return trip, and we arrived for an 8-day stay on December 23rd. Here are a few of the highlights. 

AMI AND BRUCE’S. Ami and Bruce live in the penthouse of a high-rise on Riverside Drive at 94th Street in the Upper West Side. They’d redecorated since I’d been there, the walls displaying Ami’s art photo collection, new black leather sofas, a handsome rug. Their balcony overlooks the Hudson, and you can see all the way down to the financial district. Broadway is two blocks to the east with its plethora of markets, shops, elegant restaurants, and Zabars. We felt like real Upper West Siders. 

TAYLOR. During their fifty plus years of marriage Ami and Bruce have always had German Shepherds to whom they've been totally devoted. Taylor is the most sociable of their many dogs. He particularly took to Katja and liked to give her sloppy kisses on her nose. Taylor is getting older and is plagued by arthritis, but he still looks forward to his daily walks in Riverside Park. He lay down in the hallway entrance and didn't bother to move when I tried to make my way through. Clearly in charge. 

TAP AND GO. Public transportation has changed in the city. Now on buses and subways you can tap your credit card on a screen in order to enter. I must admit the technology was a bit beyond me. When I couldn’t make it work after several tries on the M5 bus, a generous woman behind me paid for me with her credit card. I was somewhat more successful in the subway, though I usually had to try 3 or 4 turnstiles before I got to “go”. I got a distinct feeling that I am older than I used to be. 

THE CRAFT FAIR.  On the day before Christmas Katja, Ami, and I went to a gigantic craft fair at Bryant Park on 42nd Street.  There were probably 200 vendors in wooden covered stalls, all featuring high-quality merchandise.  About half of New York City was also there.  Katja bought 2 attractive Tibetan shawls.  I looked but didn't buy.  When I tried to go to the park restroom there were 60 people in line.  

A JEWISH CHRISTMAS. Nearly all the city’s museums were closed for Christmas Day, but the Jewish Museum on the Upper East Side was one exception so we went there. There were multiple enjoyable art exhibits. Our favorite was a two-artist show featuring Philip Guston, a Jewish artist who addressed anti-semitism with cartoon-like paintings of the KKK, along with Trenton Doyle Hancock, an African-American artist who explored racism a generation later with cartoon drawings of the KKK. 

HIKING ON BROADWAY. Ami made a delicious Christmas dinner of pork loin, special potatoes, salad, and lemon meringue pie. After dinner I took a hike on Broadway from 94th Street to 72nd Street and back, some 50 blocks. I’d done this on most trips in the past, but I wasn’t as spry as I used to be and wound up with bothersome leg cramps. Broadway was quieter than usual, but at least a dozen eateries were open for business. Two Hasidic men asked me if I were Jewish, but I said I wasn’t. A panhandler asked for a handout, but I shook my head, then felt like Scrooge since it was Christmas night after all. A middle-aged woman on 94th Street was more demanding, saying she'd beat me up if I didn't give her money, but I just picked up my pace. 

SOLO EXCURSIONS. On our third day Katja became very sick, a condition which was later diagnosed as a combination of pneumonia and the flu. She was bedbound much of the time, and Ami encouraged me to take in the city on my own. I went to the Museum of the City of New York which had exhibits of graffiti, Shirley Chisholm, and NYC postcards (which I especially enjoyed because I own a lot of them in my own collection). The main public library at 42nd and 5th Ave. was wonderful as usual, especially with its exhibit on early 20th century Bohemian culture in Greenwich Village (William Carlos Williams, Edna St. Vincent Millay, e.e. cummings, Man Ray, Emma Goldman, John Reed, Dylan Thomas, Eugene O’Neill, Edward Hopper, and many others). It was hard to imagine all that talent concentrated in a single city neighborhood. 

BROADWAY MUSICAL. As her Christmas present, Ami bought us tickets to “Death Becomes Her” on Broadway. This was definitely a highlight of our trip. It’s so wonderful to see a Broadway musical in person. The singing was grand, and the dancing was sensational. We left light in heart. 

LOST IN MIDTOWN. Katja likes to take the bus rather than the subway to midtown and back, so we left the theater and started looking for the M5 Broadway bus. Seventh Avenue was totally crowded, shoulder to shoulder. After walking for a block or two, I turned to check with Katja who had been walking behind me, but she wasn’t there. Just hordes of people in every direction I looked. I raced back a full block but she wasn’t anywhere along the way; then I tried the opposite direction with no better result. I was just panicked, worried for Katja since I was the person who usually got us from one place to another. I tried calling on my cell phone about 20 times, but only got her voicemail. I realized that she’d turned the ringer off at the theater. It took a long time but I did finally reach Katja by phone. She was three blocks away. I hurried there and was amazed at how unflustered she was. A truly urban person. 

A FAMILY PARTY. Ami hosted a party for relatives and friends who were in the city: our son Justin and grandkids Alex and Leo; Justin’s sister-in-law Jayme and her nephew Conrad; our nephew Jacob and his daughter Delphine; and Ami’s friend Jean. We enjoyed a delicious dinner and lots of chitchat. I sort of conked out in the middle, went upstairs, and promptly fell asleep. Bruce said afterwards that we have a delightful family. Kata’s illness put a crimp on our vacation and what we were able to do, though we still had a very pleasant time being with Ami and Bruce. She saw her doctor when we came back to Cincinnati, and the doctor promptly hospitalized her for four days. A scary time. Now she’s 95% or better, and we've just been taking it easy, snowed in by a big storm. 

 Love, 

 Dave