I was not so impressed with this blizzard. That’s just me, what can I say? I hear down south, now, that was something else.
But I think it took some decent pictures in places like nearby Passaic, New Jersey, where I get off the train and, typically, drive to the evening service.
There are definitely some garden spots where a nice white coating of snow is just about right.
In fact, most fantasies are, but especially this one. A lawyer and partner in an old haunt of mine didn’t just tell her screaming daughters tussling in the back seat she was going to throw them out of the car if they didn’t shut their traps.
She did it. By the grace of Roz Chast and all else that is unholy in the illustration of parental frustration, Madlyn Primoff of Scarsdale pulled over, tossed (figuratively) her twelve-year-old and ten-year-old daughters onto the pavement in — of all places — White Plains, New York, and drove off:
White Plains police said Primoff ordered the arguing girls out of the car Sunday evening as they were driving home. She left them at Post Road and South Broadway, an area of shops and offices 3 miles from their home, then drove off, the police report said.
In case you ever wondered what would happen if you did follow through with this idea, by the way, she’s in a world of trouble and is barred by a court order from contacting her kids. They’re not too happy about it either, as you can imagine.
Dr. Richard Gersh, director of psychiatric services at the Jewish Board of Family and Children’s Services in Manhattan, said Primoff’s behavior was not appropriate.
No, not hardly.
This is exactly what I said what happen, by the way, when they threatened to make me a bankruptcy lawyer too.
Police say an upstate New York television executive who sought to improve the image of Muslims in the media beheaded his wife after she filed for divorce.
I’m not judging. I’m just saying that, given his interests career-wise, this does not seem like the move.
It finally reached the point where I had to clean out the area under the basement steps. This happens every couple of years. Of course, if it would happen, say, every couple of months, it would take 10 minutes, not three hours, right? Well, shut up.
Certain things we’ve been carting around are simply going to have to be thrown away, finally. We don’t have the space, this stuff is not exactly appreciating in value, and it’s time. And I’m not even talking about that tangle of obsolete or redundant computer cables and organs multiplying asexually in the garage. No, I am talking about a decidedly pre-silicon collection of solidly-made objects of absolutely no commercial or practical value whatsoever that are simply going to have to go into the landfill, as well as some more contemporary but utterly baffling merchandise as well.
I cannot bear to throw away wooden hangers, and I carry with me — or did, until tonight — many that are the closest I have to family heirlooms. There are two identical, crazy suit
hangers which bear the legend, “Nevco Diplomat“; I had to take a picture just to save a thousand words. The pants are obviously meant to be held by those spring-loaded contraptions, which perhaps offered, in theory, the advantage of the slacks not being harshly folded over the cross-member and displaying, upon disengagement, the dreaded horizontal hanger-line below above the knee that historians now agree almost certainly led to Wilson’s failure to temper the Treaty of Versailles.
Any ambassador or even a consul would gladly invest the 79 cents (I can’t even find the “cents” sign on these computer keyboards!) — look at the still-intact price tag! 79 cents for at least three dollars worth of hardwood and steel! — required to avoid such a diplomatic disaster.