Gail's Blog

It has been almost a year since I had a procedure. As I stop my car, this procedure comes to mind. When I walk, it comes up in my memory unbidden. I find myself getting angry at myself sometimes because my mind is slower, or my body is slower, than they used to be. "Getting old, Gail", I think to myself. Then I think of the procedure. It was, basically, a bomb going off in my life. A year ago, October 5, 2018 to be exact, I had a heart transplant. I was suddenly very, very sick. I had had lung issues, and was seeing a pulmonologist, for about a year. No matter what he did, what therapy I used, I still could barely breathe. I still was tired, and SOB (no, not that. Short of breath). Finally, I went to a follow-up appointment with him. Before he even could examine me, I vomited and staggered, and was ordered to lie down. The doctor hit a device on the wall, and tersely talked into a receiver. An ambulance was ordered, and the EMT's came quickly. Every time I tried to si

"You can't say no to me.  I'm on Anti-rejection meds!" It has been almost a year since I had a procedure. As I stop my car, this procedure comes to mind. When I walk, it comes up in my memory unbidden. I find myself getting angry at myself sometimes because my mind is slower, or my body is slower, than they used to be. "Getting old, Gail", I think to myself. Then I think of the procedure. It was, basically, a bomb going off in my life. A year ago, October 5, 2018 to be exact, I had a heart transplant. I was suddenly very, very sick. I had had lung issues, and was seeing a pulmonologist, for about a year. No matter what he did, what therapy I used, I still could barely breathe. I still was tired, and SOB (no, not that. Short of breath). Finally, I went to a follow-up appointment with him. Before he even could examine me, I vomited and staggered, and was ordered to lie down. The doctor hit a device on the wall, and tersely talked into a receiver. An ambula

You may wonder what a bagel has to do with cultural appropriation. I'm going to explain it. First of all, my Jewish mother, who never put an "s" on the word when it was plural, took us across town to buy "good bagel" when we were young. Not Lenders, the only supermarket bagel at the time, but the real thing. The bagel shop we visited was in the heart of Cedar Center, in Cleveland Hts, part of The East Side. We watched the workers boil the bagel in huge vats of water before baking (the only way to make good bagel). We bought sesame seed, plain, poppy, but NEVER fruit flavored or chocolate! It was unheard of to pollute a nice Jewish bagel with fruits. Onion, maybe. Never fruit. I thought fruit in bagel was barred by kosher law (it wasn't). We would take our treasures home to an almost all Catholic neighborhood on the West Side.  Now, bagels (note the "s") are ubiquitous. I had a manicure, once, from a Thai immigrant who told me she ate "Ame

When Star Wars debuted in Cleveland (Star Wars: A New Hope), My husband and I were in the midst of moving from our delightfully cozy world to a new one. He had been offered a job in Washington, D.C. This was a difficult move for me, as my family was in Cleveland, and I had never lived anywhere else. We had a two bedroom apartment in an old but tony suburb. It was large and spacious, with wood floors and a fireplace. The ceilings were at least ten feet high, and the place was within walking distance to Shaker Square, home of the Shaker Rapid Transit. The Rapid still had its 1930's cars with windows that opened.  It went straight down to the Terminal Tower, now known as Tower City in the heart of downtown Cleveland. We had many friends from the Cleveland Institute of Music, and from Trinity Cathedral where we were paid soloists. Our situation was as perfect as possible. My husband received an offer he couldn't refuse, so we prepared to move. The night before we drove to D.C.,

Christ Church, Alexandria, VA. In this sanctuary, both of my children were baptized. One daughter was married here. We look forward to baptizing our grandson here, also. My husband and I have been members since 1977, when we came from Cleveland, Ohio. A choir member at our old parish suggested Christ Church, having visited as a tourist. The Christ Church choir director just happened to have openings for both a baritone and alto soloist (paid soloists being the thing in many Episcopal churches). So we sang in the choir for many years, and my husband still does. In the beginning, all of the exotic southern culture involved in living in Alexandria felt like wearing new, slightly itchy clothing. We found ourselves living in a foreign country that spoke a version of English. Some people drawled, like in the movies! Others, being transplants like us, did not. As for food: Just as casseroles, I'm told, are the holy food of Methodism, ham biscuits were here. Church receptions al

So now it is our fault that so much gas has been consumed, and that we will cost the country so much in Social Security. That we paid into Social Security all these years, and that our parents embraced consumption, and schooled us in it, are not relevant. We tried. Ours was the first Earth Day (the year I graduated high school).We marched against the Vietnam War. Many of our brothers, cousins, friends died in that war--the last generation to be drafted. We rebelled and revolted against our parents' Mad Men values. Yet we are being pilloried in the press and on the web as being greedy, selfish, youth-smitten black holes of consumerism. How did this happen? Why was my parents' generation the "Greatest", when we were also drafted, and also threatened by the world's madness?  I know. They suffered the Depression (mom still saved foil, and I did, also, when newly married). They were terrified of being conquered by the terrible despots of the time. We fear

Mom as a child. My Mother had a secret war. She didn't take it to the streets, or join with others to wage it. In her heart she held beliefs that were mightily opposed to the popular opinion of her time. She taught me that African Americans were not N****s, as the neighbors said. They were "colored people, or Negroes". They were people like us. But she taught these things quietly, as if fearing someone would overhear. The most powerful, long-lasting oppression she held within her was the oppression of Anti-Semitism . She falsified her applications for work after she quit high school because they asked for her religion. She wrote, "Protestant", instead.  In one of her first jobs she was routinely called the "Jew Girl" . This she wanted to avoid in the future. When I was small, she counseled me to never tell anyone I was half Jewish. We lived in a second-generation Roman Catholic neighborhood in Willowick, Ohio. I told, anyway. I thought, if