What is something you wish you could tell your 20-year-old self?
You are not responsible for your sister’s problems. That’s on them. Distance yourself from the dysfunction—now. Pay attention to your own feelings.
Lose the Catholic Guilt. In fact, just bag the Catholic Church church now. You were never really Catholic. You’re a Unitarian Universalist.
I know you think you couldn’t dislike any politician more than Ronald Reagan, but someone so sickening will arise in 30 years, you’re not going to believe it. Pay attention to the seeds of that catastrophe being planted now. Fight them. Observe and use your privilege.
“Welfare Queens” aren’t real.
They’re gonna legalize weed right around the same time as the catastrophe, which will be helpful. Yup, you can just walk in and buy it! And you won’t have to worry that it’s laced with anything.
I was never much for saying “the early bird catches the worm.”
The only time I ever remember getting to work early was before smart phones in the late 80s. I had forgotten to set my clock back for daylight savings and I thought it was 9am on a Monday morning, when it was actually 8am. I ran into one of the senior executives (a super annoying one) and she said “you’re here EARLY” and I was like… what?
I made a real effort to make sure my kids were “on time” for school each day, with only a few “tardies” each year. My daughter took part in one auditioned choral group in middle school that rehearsed in the morning (before school) and it was NOT fun getting her there. Who the heck wants to sing at 7am?
And now that I’m a retired Grandma, I’m more of a three cups of coffee, then maybe I’ll do some kind of chore like go to the grocery store. In contrast, my husband is up and out to the gym at like 6am. He’s the early bird.
I remember walking around in the airport in Paris—Charles De Gaulle—in December 1985. I was waiting for my flight back to Boston after my semester abroad in Rome. I was listening to my Sony Walkman, which had the songs that had been the soundtrack for the entire semester—Take on Me by A-Ha, Money for Nothing by Dire Straits, 99 Luftballons by the German band Nena.
I was hungover. I was sad. It was the end. Back to America. I knew it was going to be culture shock. So many things had happened that semester—some good, some bad—but all of it was new and exciting. I had traveled through Europe with friends, had a fling with a fellow student who was studying in France, been semi-stalked by an Italian guy, smoked hash and saw Sting perform live, been chased down the street by a very angry nun who was mad I’d let my friend use my roommate’s bed in the convent, been subjected to my first public masturbator (aka “The Jerk”), ordered entire meals in Italian, been awakened on a train by a French security guard who didn’t like my friend’s Filipino passport, got all my clothes destroyed by an Italian laundromat, and seen the most magnificent art and wonders of western civilization from the Mona Lisa to the Colosseum to Pompeii to the Vatican.
Walking through that airport felt like the last scene in a movie—a very 80s movie.
Here I am in Rome in 1985 with my short 80s hair and my friend Scott who was in my program with me. Scott was my close friend Carla’s boyfriend, but she was studying in cold old England for some reason. Girl Code obviously eliminated any chance of a fling with Scott, but he was so cute, right? Look at those legs.
I have loved all five seasons of the series Hacks with Jean Smart and Hannah Einbinder and I know the series finale is being released today. I will make a point of watching it as soon as possible so that I don’t accidentally read about it.
In the olden days, you had one shot at seeing the series finale. You had to watch it when it aired—or wait forever for the rerun to come out. Most people didn’t get VCRs until the later 1980s. (And even then, “taping” your show was an unreliable process.)
The series finale I remember being the biggest deal was M*A*S*H—the long running dramedy series set during the Korean War that followed the doctors and staff of a mobile army surgical hospital. The show ran for 11 years. I was a senior in high school when it ended in 1983.
Although I had not watched every episode along the way, I knew the main characters well. I’m pretty sure I sat and watched the finale in real time and probably shed a tear or two.
According to Google, the M*A*S*H finale, titled “Goodbye, Farewell and Amen,” was 2.5 hours long and was one of the most-watched television broadcasts in U.S. history, drawing about 106 million viewers. In 1983, the total population of the US was 234 million people. So literally, half the country watched the M*A*S*H finale.
In case you’ve forgotten the very end (like I had), here’s when Hawkeye and BJ say goodbye.
Even though I haven’t seen the Hacks finale yet, I’m assuming there will be a similarity with M*A*S*H in that two people who have been through some major shit together will deeply understand that they’ve been changed for the better by the other person.
I’ve posted a couple times about my trip to the Soviet Union in college. I was with a group of students and history professors. It was a big deal to go “behind the iron curtain” back then, so we prepped for this trip for many months—studying Russian history and learning how to behave in a communist country. (They didn’t want any of us to end up in a Siberian prison camp.)
In addition to stopping in Helsinki (Finland) on the way into the USSR, we stopped in Budapest (Hungary) on the way out. Back then, Hungary was firmly part of the Soviet-aligned Eastern Bloc. And we happened to be there in the immediate aftermath of an epic snowstorm. Other than the snow and total paralysis of transportation on the streets, I remember kind people and one particularly delicious hot meal in a restaurant with some young musicians who gave us a cassette tape of their rock band.
In light of the recent good news that Hungarians dumped their far-right leader Viktor Orbán (a buddy of both Trump and Putin) on Sunday, I dug out my Budapest pics. Google describes Budapest in 1987 like this:
Budapest in 1987 was a city in late-communist Hungary characterized by economic scarcity, socialist architecture, and a quiet, daily struggle, yet it was on the cusp of major political change. The city experienced a historic, paralyzing snowstorm in January 1987 and was designated as a UNESCO World Heritage site that same year.
I’m not in any of these photos, but I took all of them. None are particularly good, but as a group, they give you the vibe.
Fun fact: Budapest is actually two cities—Buda and Pest. In this pic, I’m standing in Buda looking over the frozen Danube River towards Pest. The large domed building on the far side is the Hungarian Parliament in Pest. (Pronounced PESHT)
The famous Fisherman’s Bastion is a fairytale-like, Neo-Romanesque lookout built between 1895 and 1902.
An Aeroflot route map in a Budapest window. (We flew sketchy Aeroflot into Russia.)
My friend Lincoln standing in an alcove in Budapest.
My friend Rob playing a balalaika at the Budapest airport.
Walking was the only option for seeing anything at all while we were there! The city was paralyzed with snow and the authorities really couldn’t deal with it.
Two of our professors at the Budapest airport. The one on the right, Dr. James West, taught Russian history and was one of the best teachers I ever had. He’s one of the reasons I majored in History.
I attended the local NoKings3 protest yesterday and it was very cold. I helped lead the singing, but took no photos. I feel like there were not as many people as there were at NoKings2 in October and the energy was not as good. There were very few young people. Honestly, I’m feeling like it’s a very dark time for the country (and by extension, the world), even though my family and I are in no physical danger. I hope that others found yesterday energizing. From the innocent children currently being held in ICE detention centers, to the working people who can’t afford healthcare AND food, to the families of the marines currently being sent to the Middle East, there is so much anxiety, suffering, and uncertainty right now.
In other news…(lame transition!)
I feel like I would be a remiss GenXer, if I did not comment on a certain TV show that demanded watching.
Love Story: John F. Kennedy Jr. & Carolyn Bessette, created by Ryan Murphy, premiered in February on FX and Hulu became a streaming hit immediately. The nine-episode series stars two unknowns (Sarah Pidgeon and Paul Anthony Kelly) as Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy and JFK, Jr.
If she was alive today, Carolyn would be my age exactly: 60.
I’m not going to re-tell the whole story, but I’ll just say that Ryan Murphy had to make up a LOT of stuff to create this series. All of the private moments and conversations depicted in the series are obviously unknown. But he linked in enough of the public moments and iconic photos I remember that it all seemed rather believable to me.
In my twenties, nobody was more “hunkified” by People and other magazines than JFK, Jr. And living in Massachusetts (Kennedy country), we’d have the occasional sighting or close encounter. My father (a pilot) once saw him come into the hangar after landing his plane at a small airport. My friend Katherine was at a wedding with him once. (Her sister-in-law was a classmate of his at Brown.)
So naturally, the woman he chose to marry at long last was of tremendous interest! And she was soooo cool and pretty—NYC hipness just emanated from her. Her sleek, shift wedding dress was so iconic that it’s still influencing bridal fashions to this day.
THE iconic wedding photo that all of us GenX women studied with great interest.
My nephew and his bride in 2022. She said Carolyn Bessette’s wedding look was her inspiration.
With Love Story, I came to understand the horribly sad side of her loss of anonymity. She was too famous to do literally anything. One scene I found very moving is when Carolyn learns that Princess Diana has died following a high speed car crash caused by paparazzi. The parallels to her own life were obvious and she goes into a deep depression. JFK, Jr had been living under a microscope his whole life, so he remains relatively unaffected, making Carolyn feel even more alone.
Now, who knows if that actually happened or not, but if I was upset for days about Princess Diana, it seems very likely that Carolyn would have been too.
Caroline Kennedy Schlossberg (President Kennedy’s only other child) who tragically just lost her own adult daughter to cancer, is capably played by Grace Gummer. Unfortunately, I didn’t think the actress looked enough like Caroline. (Grace Gummer is the daughter of Meryl Streep, so I kept thinking about how much she looks like her mother and didn’t totally buy her as Caroline.)
Being from Massachusetts, I know a lot about the Kennedy clan and all their many tragedies. I even read the memoir “What Remains” by Carole Radziwill—the widow of JFK Jr’s best friend and cousin Anthony Radziwill. My husband, on the other hand, can’t keep all the Carols straight and doesn’t really care about the Kennedys.
So there you have it. I think Love Story is more of a woman thing. The mysterious, chic, tragic Carolyn Bessette made real, human.
Do I feel guilty about all the living people who are portrayed without their permission? A little. The actress Daryl Hannah (JFK Jr’s last girlfriend before Carolyn) is pissed over her rather unflattering portrayal in the series. And of course, I wonder how Caroline feels about the portrayal. Did she even watch it? We will probably never know because Caroline Kennedy Schlossberg is a private, stoic, non-whiny person. A class act. The best kind of Kennedy.
Fortunately, Carolyn Bessette’s mother (who lost not one but TWO daughters in the tragic plane crash) is already dead, so this portrayal can’t hurt her further. But still, there’s one living Bessette sister still out there somewhere. You wonder how she feels.
Sadly, Carolyn Bessette gave herself over to the public domain the minute she married the American Prince, much like Princess Diana. Maybe our GenX “Princess Bride” fantasy should finally just be put to rest.
One of my old friends from my first job at the contemporary art museum reached out with news that our old boss is in the Epstein files and has resigned his current position in disgrace.
David A. Ross is not accused of assaulting anyone in the files, but there’s evidence of him being very sweet and supportive to Jeffrey Epstein, even after Epstein served jail time for felony prostitution in Florida. Clearly, David wanted Epstein’s money for his museum exhibitions (including a very questionable one involving photographs of minors) and an ill-fated magazine project. David claims that he fell for “Epstein’s lie that he was being framed for these crimes as political retaliation for supporting Bill Clinton.”
I did a deep dive and found some other accusations about David from the contemporary art world, one involving another person that I worked with.
So, there you go. One of the biggest personalities from my early twenties—an influential arts leader who helped envision not one but two major contemporary art museums in Massachusetts—was also an unethical creep.
How the mighty do fall.
My old boss (back to camera) chatting with a bunch of guests at an exhibition opening in the late 1980s.
The Winter Olympics end today. And thanks to Alysa Liu and her fellow skaters (but mostly Alysa), they were very satisfying for me. I really enjoyed watching the figure skating “gala exhibition” yesterday, especially the opening with the entire US gold medal team skating together.
Now I know there’s still the little matter of the US v Canada Gold Medal Men’s Hockey game yet to come in about an hour. (I’ll be at church for most of it, but I’m sure my husband will watch intently.)
The last thing I actually care about is the Closing Ceremony in Verona, which starts at 2:30pm EST.
I thought I had been to Verona during my semester abroad in 1985. I had a very vague recollection of wandering around the city thinking about the Montagues and the Capulets. But, unlike Milan, there is no photographic evidence from Verona.
Then I remembered that I started buying postcards, rather than taking pictures, at a certain point during my time abroad. Maybe it was because it was a pain to get film developed and printed in Italy, or maybe I just got tired of always lugging my camera around with me.
Anyhow, I recently located my stack of 41-year old postcards and sure enough there is one from Verona:
The caption means “Verona in the 1800s”
This actually looks like something I would buy if was wandering around thinking about Romeo & Juliet. Very romantic in a 1980s kind of way. Note the shopping bags. This was very much the vibe of a 1980s semester abroad in Italy. We were there to see stuff, buy stuff, meet people, and generally have a good time. Studying was not a priority. Anyone who spent a lot of time studying in their room was missing the whole point of being over there.
So yes, I can confidently say that I have in fact been to Verona when I watch the Closing Ceremony today. (My husband will only be half-listening when I say this, but hey, l’ll only be half-listening while he watches that hockey game.)
With the Milan-Cortina Olympics about to start, we’re going to be seeing many shots of Milan’s iconic Gothic-style Duomo.
This reminds me that I visited Milan in 1985 with my friend Julie during our semester abroad in Italy. We climbed up to the rooftop terraces of the Duomo. Back then, you didn’t need reservations or special tickets to go up.
I love it when photographic evidence of my foggy memories actually exists!
Here’s a photo I took of Julie taking a photo through a doorway atop the Duomo in Milan 40+ years ago. Julie is a great photographer so I’m sure she got a wonderful, artistic shot. But I like my pic too. Her red coat looks cool. And you can see some of the over-the-top decorative elements of the roof. Those endless spires remind me of wet, drippy sandcastles.
If you’re an older GenX American woman like me, you have feelings about Martha Stewart.
Maybe you liked her in the 80s and had a few linen skirts that looked just like hers. In the 90s, maybe you started to find her annoying when your friends threw over-the-top wedding showers that made you feel inadequate. Then maybe you were indignant that authorities had the GALL to put Martha in JAIL in 2004 on ridiculous charges and she took it like a champ and helped the other women she met in the slammer.
And maybe after that, you found Martha & Snoop an amusing duo and realized that no matter what she does, you will pay attention because she is Martha Stewart. And you are not.
On that note, I made Martha Stewart’s Cacio E Pepe With Lemon last night. Yes, I was annoyed that the “Grana Padano” cheese she uses is not readily available in stores. The Whole Foods cheese guy hadn’t even heard of it. How very Martha! (I substituted Parmigiano-Reggiano and it was fine.) And yes, I was irritated that I had to grind 4 teaspoons of pepper by hand, because everyone knows that when Martha calls for “freshly cracked pepper” she means it. And finally, NO I did not happen to have a MEYER lemon on hand, but thankfully Martha made it clear that any lemon would do.
The result was good. Very good.
I doubled the recipe so I could use the whole package of spaghetti, rather than half.
Martha Stewart’s “Cacio e Pepe with Lemon” “Cacio e Pepe” is simply pasta with cheese and pepper and it’s a classic Roman dish.
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