My warm and wonderful daughter-in-law frequently asks me why I don’t have a boyfriend. I laugh and change the subject. Still, it must be nice to share what’s left of life with someone. I frequently go online where there are many pictures of men in my age group who seem to be more-than-normal, have children and grandchildren and backgrounds similar to mine. Unfortunately, they’re in the obituaries.
Speaking of men, one of my favorite guests on MSNBC is a guy named Richard Painter. He has a distinctive voice, sort of a high-pitched growl. He rarely moves a muscle in his face (maybe he can’t). But when he speaks, he eviscerates anyone who offends what we used to call our common ethical bond, not to mention the law.
I rather like the bright green construction materials being used in the building going up at the corner of Harlem Avenue and South Boulevard. Since these high-rises are all godawful, maybe bright colors and glass would add to Oak Park’s architectural distinction: say one grass-green, one shocking pink, one periwinkle blue, etc. I could not tolerate orange but that’s just me. If we ran out of colors, maybe we could recruit Banksy to come and do his magic. The combinations with all the glass could be striking. Or not.
Several years ago, I questioned why the Lake/Ridgeland area — with the nearby high school, ice rink, swimming pool, and el station, had no place to get a sandwich, ice cream for the kids, or a few nice restaurants for the grown-ups, as well as a hardware store, etc. I was told it is not a designated as a commercial area by the village. That ruling should be revisited. In the meantime there are still two wonderful tenants in the historic building on the southwest corner with wonderful proprietors — Pieritz and One Stop Comics — but would it kill them to clean up their stores? The rest of the spaces are, as my mother would have said, “a disgrace to humanity.” What gives?
I had found the food at Brea, French Street Food, on Marion to be underwhelming. And I’m not crazy about those places where you have to order using a computer at the counter. Seems strange when the person who usually has to help me then turns to the cook and tells him the order. However, I recently went in for a piece of quiche for lunch. It was so yummy and the crust was so light, I almost had to hold onto it to keep it from levitating across the room. On the other hand, I bought a pricey piece of pie recently at Spilt Milk. I could not cut the crust with my folk and I had a hard time doing it with my knife.
Come May 19, I’ll be glued to my TV at 6 a.m. for the royal wedding. I love the royals and think they’re worth every penny their country wastes on them. Who doesn’t need a little predictable pomp in their lives other than graduations and weddings? The Queen’s endless supply of matronly pastel outfits, the hideous hats, the enigmatic Prince Philip, the Cinderella carriages, the mini-scandals. Most of all, there’s William and Kate and their cherubs and the wonderful Harry and Meghan. She who might not have been invited to the wedding earlier in my lifetime. Their style and behavior are reminiscent of our real First Family — and I do, of course, mean the Obamas.