Pfunksfoolosophy

Last weekend, my best friend of nearly 37 years, Kim, came for a much needed visit. She’s married and has one child. Both her husband and  her son have ADHD. I’ve seen her son unmedicated and it takes a great deal to find the patience to handle him. He’s a great kid. He’s funny, which can be his downfall and he’s smart. The thing is…when you need him to get ready for school and he’s not medicated, you want to slap him. He’s also diabetic, so he can’t skip a meal. Yep. Kim NEEDED the vacation. I needed to see her as well.

Another win/win situation.

I would love to regale you with our adventures, but I want to check in with her first.

I may have to coerce her and also get the lowdown from her perspective.

So, keep your eye on this column, dear readers. You’re gonna get an eyefull of some crazy happenings including just why she and I are lifelong friends. She’s a bit of a devil, that kid.

This may take a couple of days to process.

In any event, if you have dear friends with whom you’ve lost touch…give ‘em a jingle. Drop ‘em a line. I’m nearly always in contact with Kim. We’re sorta co-dependent but in a healthy way. HEALTHY, I say!

Heh. That were funny. We were phrasemakers all weekend, with Kim being the champion for this one: “The fart from the ass who must not be named”. Ruminate on that one for a bit, kids.

Oh, there was ass-gas and it wasn’t pretty. I think I just overshared. Yep, I sure did.

Can’t take it back now. Chuckle it up out there, gang.

Love ya!
Hey, and pick up my cookbook!
I’ve not mentioned it enough, have I?

THE PRETZEL COOKBOOK: A NEW TWIST ON EVERYONE’S FAVORITE SNACK

Is that good enough for ya?
Amazon has it…so does Borders and Barnes and Noble.

GET it,  already!
If you request it, I’ll even autograph it for ya.

How do ya like THEM apples?
Ah, youth. I wish I still had it.

Be careful out there.

Yet again, my life has taken over and my writing has suffered.

Well, let’s get down to it: American Idol. Wow. Is it wrong to have a crush on a kid of about 15 or so? That little fella from Utah is a sweetie. A little too earnest, but I dig him. Simon’s hair is what I stay for, though. That guy. Wow…yikes.

Lemme see…OH! I went to visit my best friend and her family a couple of weekends ago and Patrick coined a new phrase: “Yeeks!”  Please be sure to use it in place of “Yikes” whenever you can. It’s enjoyable.

Work, being sick, having my purse stolen…loads to tell but not now.
Love ya, keep on truckin’.

It’s my ‘ex-husband’s’ birthday. Claude is my partner in comedy crime (or crimes against comedy), he’s my duet partner in an ever evolving musical extravaganza and most importantly, he’s a dear friend.

Here’s hoping your day is filled with laughter, joy and loads of lovely love. Keep on keepin’ on, Claude.
I loves ya.

What’s been going on with me? Not a whole heck of a lot, really. Lately, I’ve been very, very introspective which can be both a blessing and a curse when you think about it.
Too much time on my hands to think is almost a sure fire way for me to get into trouble.
As the holidays approach I suppose I become more and more wistful. I’ve experienced a lot of death in my life and the holidays make the losses seem more pronounced. I also have the time to re-evaluate my existing relationships. What are you willing to tolerate from others? You probably remember that I’m only going to keep about 30 friends for the rest of my life, right?
It was fifty, but I don’t think I need that many. It’s hard to keep track of that many and quite frankly, I don’t wish to keep in contact. So, before the new year, I’m going to do some pruning. It’s necessary. What purpose does it serve to hang on to a relationship that has no purpose? If you’re not in contact with the person at least once a month, guess what? It’s pretty much over.
Now, there are exceptions. You have friends with whom you don’t have to communicate every week or even every month. These friends have a place in your soul and that’s groovy. They are few and far between…but you know who I’m talking about…the folks who expect you to remain where you are…in that one place, that one image of how they perceive you to be, and when you’re not there, they act stricken. Too bad. Cut ‘em loose. They’re not terribly concerned about your development and chances are they’re more concerned with their own lives to even notice that you’ve dropped ‘em. Mourn the loss for a bit and move on.
It’s liberating to excise the unnecessary weight from my spirit. Try it…it may just get you moving in the right direction. You can’t always keep friends around just because you’ve got a history. Sometimes the season has played out. Recognize it and keep on steppin’.
Try not to place blame, just ackowledge that it’s time to change. You can do it. You’ll be surprised how good it feels, actually.
Also take some time to process it all. It’s strange, but it’s vital to your growth, guys. Don’t hang on just because; move forward because you must. Some folks are gonna hang on and some folks need to hang up. It’s okay. Keep growing. I know I’m trying…

Well, today is my pal Angie’s birthday. You all know Angie; she’s the one with that Florida blog that you all are reading. It’s called The Suncoast Scribe. She’s got a couple other ones… a girly one and one clear dot. She USED to have another one called Plus 1, but you have heard my rant about that.

Anyway, I wanted to wish her a happy birthday. She’s funny, she’s sensitive, she’s got a wicked sense of humor and she humors me when I launch into one of my fantasies about Liza Minnelli dancing with Jan Michael Vincent at my wedding to James Garner.

(I really don’t want to marry James Garner, but you get my drift.)

She’s a good friend and I am thankful and blessed to have her in my life. Angie is a true gift. She’s the kind of friend who you KNOW is giggling at her computer when you’re instant messaging–to the point of bringing herself to a nice little asthma attack. You can HEAR the wheezing as she’s trying to suppress a laugh.  I love that about her. She’s also smart. You can’t find better. I’m trying to get her to date, so get the thoughts out there for some good dating ju-ju. I’ve since given up on myself. I’m just no good. heh…

I hope her evening is stress free and that she’s appreciating the beauty of another year on this planet.  Man, I wish I could send her some pastries from Rocco’s down in the West Village. She would enjoy that. I’ll figger out a way to get her some cool stuff.

Maybe I’ll make her a NYC type care package. Outdated Metrocards, subway maps, photos of some bums fighting…ya never know.

Oh, Ang Lee…Happiest of birthdays! Many, many, many more!
 

Anwar Sadat’s funeral services were held in Cairo. I was in high school. The Pretenders were just becoming a part of my consciousness.

My sister gave birth to my niece.  That one event changed my life forever. My niece became my track team’s mascot for a time. She was the darling of my school. The principal and many of the teachers remembered my sister and I showed my niece Koya off every chance I could get.
My sister thought she had made up the name. It’s actually a mountain in Japan and loosely translated, according to a Japanese friend, ‘Koya’ means ’spiritual place’.  Hmm…

You know, I remember when my sister went into labor with Koya. I was joking around with her. Her pregnancy had been miserable. She couldn’t stand to have her own saliva in her mouth so she was sorta like an old man with a slop jar. She was also…’touchy’, shall we say? I remember one time during her pregnancy when a friend of mine and I were going out to a party and she asked that we bring home some pudding. We forgot. She wept. She screamed at me, telling me how inconsiderate I was. My response? “Who made you the pudding sheriff?” She was not charmed.

Still, I was nervous for her. She was the first one to have a kid among the siblings and since I still in high school it was scary. Pam was in labor for oh, three full days and part of the fourth. My Mom had to remind me of that today. They finally performed an emergency C-section and Koya came out of it with a seizure disorder that she outgrew by the time she was two.
Oh, how I adored that baby. I would wake up in the middle of the night and creep in to watch her sleep. She was so precious to us all. Her clothes were all so tiny and sweet. Polly Flinders hand smocked dresses, Petit Bateau, handmade garments–you would have sworn that a princess had been born, such was the flurry to dress her. My favorite outfit actually made her look like the Cheshire Cat from Disney’s Alice in Wonderland. I still have that picture around here somewhere.
I remember her sleeping with me in my canopy bed and me not getting a wink. We took her absolutely everywhere in her pram. Yep, she had a pram. We were insane.

Now, the kid is gonna be twenty and six. She reminded me that I was getting old as she’s close to thirty. The hell kinda thing is that to say to the woman who raised ya? Ingrate.

Nooo, my kid is my heart. She’s funny and thoughtful…she’s a bitch like her biological mom, she’s devoted to her child, she’s got a great singing voice (NOT inherited from her biological mother, I can tell ya that), she is crafty…I feel blessed to have her in my life.

When she was about 2 or so, I was in the bathroom and I had locked the door. For some reason she had a little Italian accent, or so it seemed. She said, ‘Unlock-a da do, Auntie! Why you no open-a da do?’ I never  let her forget that when she comments about Pooper calling his shovel his ‘bubble’.
She has been a joy in my life and today is her birthday.

May she find her happiness, her silliness and her joy today.

Koya Marie, HAPPY BIRTHDAY! (but at 8:45pm)

I love you more than space.

To wish her a happy, healthy and fun filled day!
This pal o’mine is a real pistol. She’s funny, she’s pretty, she’s smart and she is in possession of a fluffy pink sweater that renders males of our species helpless.

I wish she would bust it out more often. The sweater may very well be out of the rotation, but no one delighted more than this girl reporter when men would be rendered speechless.

She’s a good egg deserving of a mention. The kind of friend who will be there for ya when you’ve just eaten more than your share of ice cream and possibly had a potato chip chaser–you’re not feeling that you’re running with optimum efficiency, but she won’t remind you that you should have cried uncle after your first pint of Heathbar crunch. Good times have been had while in her company, I can assure you. She’s seen me at my best and at my worst and she’s lived to tell about it in addition to remaining cordial to me. Gotta love that in a friend.

So, Efunk…happy birthday! Let’s find a karaoke joint so you can sing ‘That ain’t no way to treat a lady’ and I can sing ‘Leave me alone’…there’s gotta be someplace around…

Be well, be swell and keep on being yourself.

 (this was not a paid endorsement)

Hi guys:

You’re all probably very familiar with my good pal Angie and her life as a blogger, right?
Well, some wacky crap went down last week and I have to tell ya, I’m plenty upset about it.

If you look over at my blogroll, you’ll see that PLUS 1 is no longer there.
Why, oh wise Pfunk, why? Well, because the person hosting that particular blog decided that she didn’t agree with a post Angie made regarding treating her OWN child with Benadryl. You probably know that there is a pediatric grade Benadryl and that there are no long term side effects associated with this product. You’re also probably aware that it isn’t tantamount to ‘drugging’ your child especially if the pediatrician previously treated the child for allergies. My question is this: What would cause a reasonable person to prohibit ACCESS to a person’s blog rather than request that the post be altered or deleted due to objectionable (?!) content?

Angie is a paid blogger, a single mom (recently divorced) and at the time, had just lost her grandmother. Talk about kicking someone when they’re down!
It’s unthinkable that communication is so poor that the owner of the host had no way of articulating her displeasure regarding the post other than to deny the writer access to her own words. She’s losing money every day.

Every. Day.

I’m not charmed. If Ange had written something disgusting or perverse I could understand the swift retribution, but this is just plain mean spirited and narrow-minded. I abhor censorship, but I understand that when you are not hosting your own blog you are at the mercy of the host. I get it. Still, it rankles and I’m pissed off.

You don’t take the food out of a child’s mouth because you disagree –for whatever idiotic reasons, with the writer of a blog you’re hosting.

Like I always say, ” The karmic wheel turns in all ways–In all ways” so I don’t expect that this person’s life is going to take a turn for the best. You are rewarded for your behavior. Good or bad, wrong or right, you will receive your just rewards. Maybe it won’t be immediate, but it will happen.

Have you ever had to defend a friend when they’ve been unjustly slighted, accused, abused?
I hope you’ve stood your ground and fought with them. I hope you walk on a path that leads you always to the truth and to the light of integrity.

For now, take a look at my blogroll and give Angie some  love.

I’ve given you links to both new blogs in this post, but remember to bookmark them and keep on truckin’.

She’s been ‘banned’ for two weeks. When she gets her blogs back up, let’s see what happens.

Pfunk’s  foolosophy is live and let live–until you eff with folks who just don’t deserve it.

Sure G-d will take care of, but what with Darfur, our ‘War on Terror’ and the Britney/Paris/Lindsay/Nicole/insert any other talentless youngster…I think He’s got a full plate.

Oh, that was a good ‘un.

Peace.

Over the years here in the Big Onion, I’ve come to know a lot of characters. One of them I met at my former local watering hole in the West Village. This person is an artist and an intellectual, but she also has some kind of death wish.  Why did I make such a harsh judgment when you all know that I’m not one to judge? Well, sir…it’s because for all of her intellect and her life experience and her talent, the girl is a hot mess.

I’ve seen her down copious amounts of alcohol and illicit drugs and borne witness to her incoherent ramblings. She’s also a low talker. That makes it particularly interesting when you’re trying, TRYING to listen to her problems and offer advice. As you know, I’m deaf in my right ear and it takes some concentration to just get myself to a place where I can understand that she’s talking to ME, let alone get the gist of what she’s crabbing about.

And lord, don’t let her get maudlin. When she’s maudlin, the pronounced logorrhea is right up there with the ramblings of the street people who frequent my neighborhood.

Some of the guys I know have taken to calling her ‘Fight  Club’. You’ve seen that movie, right? The dude was beating himself up. It’s an apt name for someone who often looks as though she’s been in altercation with herself. She really ping pongs down the street with that cloud of gloom over her head. Lately, I’ve been wondering about her. Is she okay? Doesn’t she care enough about herself to just stop the abuse?

We’re a curious bunch, the human race. We don’t realize our importance and very often if we do, we take it entirely too seriously. My opinion is that we’re here to love and be loved. We’re here to elevate one another, aren’t we? So, what to do? I guess I’ll play around with contacting her and then I’ll forget about her. That’s the way it usually goes, ain’t it?

Naaah, if I’m gonna walk the talk I’ve got to make an effort. She’s a lost lamb, so I suppose this shepherd will try to get her back in one piece.

Last night before I went to sleep I thought about how truly happy my life is, in part because of the great friends I’ve made and fostered over the years.

A very dear friend of mine and I were talking after viewing “The Two Coreys” (my new guilty pleasure) and our laughter far outweighed any heavier subjects that we delved into, but that was what was so cool. We easily, seamlessly glide off into different subjects- tangents, really without a thought about whether the other person will take offense.

Friends, real, true friends know one another well enough to care about what the other has to say. We may not agree and quite frankly, most of my friends are quite a bit more conservative than I am, but we are bound by love. Deep love for one another that is unconditional. Unconditional love isn’t a new concept, but it is something that most folks have a hard time grasping. “I would love him so much more if he would just-insert behavior}, “She’d be so awesome if she’d just…” That’s not what it’s about. Either you love the person or you don’t. Simple as that. Love is unconditional. “LIKE”, well that’s another story.

The great, best thing about having friends is that you can dump the crap that you have sitting on your heart at their doorstep and they can make the choice to help you sift through it or not. They can be strong when you’re feeling weak…for you, because of you and unconditionally. Usually, they’ll never bring it up unless you do. Friends can cheer you up or they can fan the fire.

With your closest of friends sometimes you are the flame fanner. I know that because of my capacity to empathize I often make things worse by inciting them to greater heights of anger. It happens. We laugh about it. Particularly my best friend and I. She’ll go off about something that happened and I’ll chime in a comment or two and realize I’ve just made her even angrier and I have to say, ‘Whoa, I’m pouring gasoline on it, huh?’ She’ll laugh and call me a ‘fire fanner’ and we’ll move forward. Even that is funny. You’re so linked to that person that you feel for them. Sure, you’re not helping much, but you’re there.

Yep, you can get on your friend’s nerves, they on yours…hell, you can even get on your own damned nerves. Take my word for it, I’ve gone a couple of days not speaking to myself for my behavior. I’ve had to break up with myself. But the thing is, you still love your friend no matter what. There is very little that someone you love can do to make you STOP caring about them, stop LOVING them. You may need to take a time out every now and again to get your bearings. It’s natural. We’re all growing. Hopefully, we’re evolving into beings who are more understanding, sympathetic, empathetic and tolerant.

Growth is good. Try it on. It’s always changing to suit you.