Happy Mother’s Day

By Maria Schulz

Mother’s Day is here, and along with it comes a bunch of articles about “The Top TV Moms of All Time.” I always get a kick out of reading those lists. Last night, my husband and I were talking about some of our most unforgettable TV Moms. Here are my favorites:

The most lovable dingbat on the planet

Edith Bunker from All In the Family

Edith was the all-forgiving, all-loving mom of Gloria, mother-in-law of Mike, grandmother to baby Joey and long-suffering wife of Archie. She had endless patience and a bottomless pit of pithy stories to share with her family, whenever they needed them. Archie called her Dingbat, but Edith was the heart AND the brains in that family.

Shirley Partridge from The Partridge Family

Shirley was a totally cool mom who played percussion in her kids’ band, drove a multicolored bus back and forth from gigs, and never really believed that her kids were innocent when something went wrong. Her kids were, at times, rotten and she was okay with that. She looked great in her velvet pantsuit and was rockin’ short hair long before it was in.

Shake your hands, snap your fingers, and you too can disappear

Jessica Tate and Mary Campbell from SOAP

These two sisters were the best moms! Jessica was scatter-brained, but could always be counted on in a pinch. She personally exorcised her grandson in one episode and talked her adopted daughter into understanding how much she loved her by saying, “what matters more – sharing a womb or sharing a life?”

Mary accepted her sons no matter what, even if one was a mobster and the other was the first openly gay character on prime-time television. Mary was a slightly better wife than Jessica (Jessica was known to dabble in affairs) and she even dealt kindly with her husband, who thought he could snap his fingers and disappear.

Kate Lawrence from Family

Kate was a stay-at-home mom who was smart, funny, and always there for her kids and husband. She had a daughter named Nancy, whose marriage unraveled in the first season and who had a small baby that Kate always helped care for. Her son, Willie, was always getting into trouble with his father, Doug, a lawyer who hoped for big things for his future. Her youngest child, Buddy (played by Kristy McNichol) was on the verge of growing up, so she had to deal with things like teen crushes, heartbreaks, and whether or not to “go all the way” with Leif Garrett, a teen heartthrob at the time. Kate faced it all with one raised eyebrow and really great advice for her kids. She seemed to like her husband and he admired her. No matter what her kids did, she accepted it and forged ahead.

Ann, Julie & Barbara Romano

Ann Romano from One Day At A Time

“This is it! This is life, the one you get, so go and have a ball!” The theme song used to get me primed for another night of arguments and funny stuff with the Romano family. Newly divorced and single mother of two young girls, Ann Romano had her hands full with daughters Julie and Barbara. Mostly Julie drove her crazy—from running away with her boyfriend, Chuck, to striking up a love affair with a man more than 2 times her age. Barbara used to feel left out, so she would do her share of stupid things, like running off with her friend Bob just to see if her mother would come looking for her. I liked Ann Romano (Bonnie Franklin) because she wasn’t above telling her kids how stupid she thought they were being. She also insisted that her children treat their father fairly, dated in midlife, fell in love with a married man, pondered remarriage, and became a grandparent. Ann was a great mom…and I was sorry to hear Bonnie Franklin passed away earlier this year.

Sing, Lily! Sing

Lily Munster from The Munsters

While she might not be the most traditional choice for TV Mom of the year, you have to hand it to Lily. She never lost her head (Herman couldn’t say the same) despite the fact that her husband and father were always getting into trouble. She had a lot of confidence in her appearance and was kind to her “homely” niece, Marilyn. She helped Eddie see Herman as the great father he was when he wished his father was “normal.” And she certainly knew how to entertain a crowd, whether it was a rock-n-roll band that rented her home and used it for a party or “relatives” from the old country that dropped by for a spell. Whether Grandpa was blowing up his basement laboratory or Spot was smashing through the staircase and breathing fire, Lily always had a smile on her face.

Knows how to entertain

Remembering these classic TV Moms made me remember my own mother (as if I needed help in that department). My mom had a lot in common with these TV Moms. For instance:

• Mom rocked any hairstyle
• There was a time when my mother owned lots of velvet pantsuits
• She told a funny story in a way that had you laughing along with her while she told the story
• Mom’s laugh was contagious
• Mom could sing with the best of them
• Mom was the best entertainer this side of the planet
• She welcomed my brother’s rock-n-roll band into our home
• Her smile never wavered, even when our pets broke things or when my grandfather tried to cook and almost blew up the house
• Mom knew that sometimes, her kids were rotten. And she was okay with that
• She demanded that her children respect their father
• She was admired for her brains AND her beauty
• Mom was a champion eyebrow-raiser
• Mom knew that “this is it,” so she went out and had a ball

I joined a club that no one ever wants to join when my mother passed away some years ago. That’s the club that spends Mother’s Day wishing they had to go get a card and a gift for their mom, who is no longer here.

Maria & Mom

Was my mother perfect? No. Perfect people aren’t very interesting or fun, and my mother was both. While my mother had her faults like anyone else, she certainly made life joyful for the people around her. If I could tell my mom one thing, it would be this: I wish I could be half the mother you were.

On this Mother’s Day, I’d like to wish all the moms out there a very happy, fun-filled day. Don’t worry Dads—I’ll get to you next month.

Recipe:

I love Quiche Lorraine

One of my favorite dishes that my mom would make was Quiche Lorraine. Here’s a recipe that got 4 ½ stars:

http://allrecipes.com/recipe/quiche-lorraine-i/

So, Hungry Lifers…if you had to choose one of the moms from this list, who would YOUR mom most resemble? Did I miss one that you think fits your Mom better? If you had to pick a TV Mom that represents my mother, who do you think I would choose? Please leave a comment below and let us all know. Thanks!

My Superhero

By Maria Schulz

Now that Iron Man 3 is coming out in the movies, I’ve seen a ton of tie-in advertisements with Iron Man selling everything from sandwiches to soap. The excitement surrounding this big movie premiere got me thinking about superheroes in general and my own preoccupation with them in particular.

Have you ever wondered which Super Hero you would choose and what your superpower would be? This is the kind of question that I imagine is being asked in those Team Building exercises they make you do somewhere in corporate America. I can just see Michael Scott from The Office (the old Office. The good one) managing to infuriate/insult every one of his employees by providing name tags with the superhero/superpower he thought each employee should have.

My brothers and I used to play a version of this when we were little. One brother chose Thor (the God of Thunder. He was pretty loud), Captain America (he liked to throw his mighty shield), The Incredible Hulk (super strong. Too bad about the green skin though), The Submariner (swim! swim!), Iron Man (I think his superpower is the ability to revive Rob Downey Jr.’s career), Spiderman and/or Mike Powers Atomic Man (we had a lot of radioactive concerns back then).

My brothers announced one day that I had to choose a superhero but:

•  It had to be a girl
• There weren’t as many to choose from
• She couldn’t be a villain (I think they were afraid I would undermine them)

What a sense of humor!

Of course this meant I couldn’t be Cat Woman, who I thought was a whole lot more fun then Bat Girl. I also couldn’t become The Invisible Man (okay, The Invisible Woman) since he/she wasn’t necessarily a good guy. I just thought it would be fun to be invisible so I could play practical jokes on my classmates and enter the convent  to hear what I imagined were the nuns’ daily dinner conversations about how they were going to torture us the next day. I also couldn’t claim Lex Luther, The Penguin or The Joker—three bad guys who I thought really knew how to enjoy their work.

When I finally narrowed it down, my brothers got mad because I couldn’t decide which one to go with:

The obvious choice

• Super Girl: I liked her cape
• Wonder Woman: wouldn’t it be cool to be that tall?
• The Bionic Woman: with those ears and the ability to run fast, I could hear the teachers talking about what questions would be on the tests AND get to the last Devil Dog before my brother Joey
• Isis: for the 4 or 5 of you who actually watched this show on Saturday mornings in the 1970s, you may know that Isis was actually an Egyptian Goddess, and the scientist lady who found her amulet became Isis. This made her able to fly, lift heavy stuff, avenge all wrongs, save mankind, etc. Plus she got to wear cool jewelry and a flowing Cleopatra dress. Sign me up!

Apparently, my inability to just “choose one darn Superhero!” got me expelled from my brothers’ newly formed League of Superheroes club. I really think they were just looking for a reason to kick me out. They said it was because:

1. I couldn’t make a decision
2. I was a dumb girl
3. I was no good at sports
4. The only comic books I read were Mad Magazine (which almost made me cool) and Archie (which undid any coolness quotient I’d previously earned)
5. Anybody with a brain in their heads would’ve chosen Wonder Woman (I mean, look at her!)

Maybe this is why I can’t muster up a whole lot of enthusiasm for the release of Iron Man 3. I can’t picture myself in the role played by Gwyneth Paltrow and I am definitely NOT a card-carrying member of any Superhero clubs.

But just like Isis, I would like to have several superpowers at once. This would’ve infuriated my brothers when I was little; again, “just choose already!” But why choose? If I choose to fly but DON’T choose bionic hearing, does that mean that I can NEVER have bionic hearing in the future? Well, duh. Yes! But I can’t fly now or ever either. IT’S MAKE BELIEVE, FOLKS!

Anyway, here’s what I’d choose:

X-Ray Vision: so I know what all my presents are

Flying: so I never have to sit in coach again

Invisibility: so I can disappear when someone I can’t stand is heading my way

Super Human Strength: so I can knock out dents & dings on my car after a trip to the supermarket

The Ability to Leap Tall Buildings in a Single Bound: that kind of jumping will come in handy when I’m a center in my Little Person’s Basketball League

Greatest. Show. Ever.

Time Travel: so I can right all wrongs—including the cancellation of The Rockford Files in 1981

Supercharged Metabolism: so I can eat whatever I want, whenever I want, and never gain an ounce again

My Superhero name would be SUPER MARIA. Sort of like Super Grover from Sesame Street (C’mon, don’t you just love SUPER GROVER???)

SUPER GROVER!

Recipe:

Super Power Pasta Primavera

Here’s a dish from Giada

http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/giada-de-laurentiis/pasta-primavera-recipe/index.html

Here’s a dish from me! It won’t actually give you superpowers, but it will fill you up, and your kids will probably eat it (mine did).

Ingredients:

Pasta: Penne, Linguine, Rigatoni (whatever is on hand)

1 dozen cherry tomatoes

1 onion

1 or 2 gloves garlic

Broccoli spears

Cauliflowers

Red, Green & Yellow Pepper Strips

Shredded Parmesan or Romano Cheese (you choose)

¼ cup olive oil, divided

½ cup Italian Dressing

2 tablespoons butter

1 tsp. Italian Seasonings

1 tsp. salt

1 tsp. pepper

Cooking spray

Preheat oven to 450 degrees. Put on a pot of water and boil your pasta. Put some tin foil on a cookie sheet; coat with non-stick cooking spray. Add vegetables; drizzle 2 teaspoons of olive oil over top. Add seasonings. Roast vegetables for about 15 minutes. Put onions & minced garlic into pan with butter & remaining oil. When garlic and onion are brown, add boiled, drained pasta and roasted vegetables. Throw in your Italian dressing and mix it all up in the pan.

You can use whatever vegetables you like (green beans, spinach, kale, mushrooms, carrots, asparagus). If you have a bag or two of frozen vegetables you want to use, defrost them in the microwave, drain out the water, and throw them onto the cooking sheet.

Enjoy!

So Hungry Lifers…if you could be any Superhero, which one would you choose? What superpower would you have? Don’t worry, you can choose more than one! Please leave a comment and let us all know. Thanks.

Let’s Eat, Part 4

By Maria Schulz

Happy Anniversary to Tales From a Hungry Life

Happy Anniversary! Yes, I just celebrated my 3^rd year of blogging and the creation of my Tales of A Hungry Life blog. So what have I learned in my 3^rd year of blogging?

• Blogging will not make me a millionaire, even by accident. I can’t tell you how many people tell me about their friend of a friend who got 12,000,000 hits writing a blog about the many uses of soy, and now gets advertising up the ying yang. Even better are the stories of 14 year olds who are independently wealthy thanks to their blog on “1,000 Ways to Make Soup.” They end the stories with, “So are you rich yet?” Um, no
  

  Who wants to be a millionaire?

• People don’t really like leaving comments. I wish they would, but it’s kind of like inviting people to your house for a party—and demanding that they tell you how great you are. Sure, it seems like a wonderful reason for a party, but if you force it, no one will ever come back.
• I used to think I would run out of blog ideas, but that hasn’t happened so far. Even my worst days include something that makes me laugh. The silver lining is that when something goes really wrong, I think: BLOG POST!
• Doing something scary can be good. While I have not yet cracked the traditional publishing houses, I have 60+ posts to my name thanks to the “Publish” button on WordPress.com. Sweet!
• I may still be too shy to stand in front of an audience and tell jokes, but I’m not too shy to write what I think is funny and share it with the world.
• Some people will never like my blog. I have gotten comments that claimed my writing made them want to drink and that my ideas are too vanilla. As I’ve said before, my writing makes me want to drink, and I like vanilla.
• The flip side of that is getting comments from people who have been full of encouragement. Suzanne, Neil, BGLou, Lisa, Turafish, Lexiesnana, Tony, Kathie, Chris, Anne, TC, John, Cindy, Cora, WordImprovisor, Stacy, Karen and everyone else who has ever left me a comment, thank you for all of the kind words of encouragement.
• The world can be heartbreaking sometimes, but my blog doesn’t have to be. I hope you can come here to find a laugh or two, and leave with a smile.

I wrote 20 posts in the last 12 months. Here are my top five posts from last year:

12 Things My Teachers Taught Me: Let Sister Pit Bull eat cake, it’s easy to be kind, use your critics’ comments to become a better writer, and never turn in junk. I had great teachers (Mr. Reines, Mr. Brodsky, Sister Barbara) and not-so-great teachers (Sister Pit Bull, Sister Margaret, Sister Clara), and every single one of them made me a better person…whether they wanted to or not. I think our teachers are undervalued and blamed when they should be esteemed and supported. After all, don’t we want them to succeed?

My Bucket List: Once I knew that the Mayans had declared December 21, 2012 the end of the world, it was time to create my bucket list. From hiring a personal chef to forming my own tiny person’s basketball league (hey! I finally get to play center), I wrote down all the things I wanted to do in life. I would love interviewing Kristin Stewart, even if all I have is a banana for a microphone.

The Next Big Thing: another writer tagged me and I had to answer interview questions about my writing projects. It was a riot thinking about what makes me tick as a writer, and even more fun to see the comments people had for me. I thoroughly enjoyed my “Mariah Carey/Barbara Walters moment.”

Mayans, Memories & Manicottis: this was the recap of all the things I accomplished (or didn’t) on my Bucket List, now that the world did not end. I made Manicottis! I ripped all the tags off my pillows! And no, I am still not a center on a little person’s basketball league.

 

Roger Ebert & Me:  this was my latest post, and one I thoroughly enjoyed writing. It brought me back to the days of watching Siskel & Ebert, going to the movies, and spending time with my grandmother. Those are just a few of my favorite things, and I got to enjoy them all thanks to those two movie critics. Plus, I got to think about my Heaven: which movie is my favorite, and which ice cream I can eat endlessly and never gain a pound. Hey! It is Heaven after all.

Finally, to celebrate my Anniversary, I decided to cast a new show starring the lovable Lagalantes and their extended relatives. We had Lagalante: The Movie, a movie starring Terri Garr as my mother and Rosie O’Donnell as Sister Clara; Lagalante: The Musical starring Angelina Jolie as me (it is my show); and now: the audience participation vehicle that travels to beaches all around the country. It’s called “Now You’re My Cousin.”

Sssh. The show’s starting.

It’s sort of like Tony & Tina’s Wedding, only you don’t have to get dressed up to come. You should wear flip-flops, a bathing suit & sun block. The cost of admittance is a ticket (duh) and a covered ethnic dish that is completely inappropriate for the beach. Think lasagna, peppers and eggs, paella, kielbasa, flan, etc. Don’t come empty-handed, or the cast will tease you relentlessly for the duration of the show. Come to think of it, you will probably be teased relentlessly anyway. But still…bring food.

The play is set in the early 1970s. Since everyone is a LOT younger, we will need an entirely different cast.

DAD: Matthew Broderick (yes, I cast him as Tony in the musical; but he and my Dad can easily be played by the same person)

The cast from Modern Family

Mom: Gloria (from Modern Family)

Jude: any rock-n-roll kid that dresses like Jimi Hendrix

Tony: Harry Potter look alike

Louie: Drake Bell look alike

Paul: younger version of Hayley’s boyfriend from Modern Family

Joe: a look alike for the brother on The Wonder Years

Chris: a Fred Savage look alike (the kid from the Wonder Years—okay, I’ve been watching a lot of Modern Family & The Wonder Years)

Maria: a big-mouthed precocious Disney kid who is blond and gorgeous (this is a fantasy, after all)

Nonie: Nancy Walker look-alike

Uncle Don: Paul Lynde look alike

Hot, hot, hot

The cast above will immediately start pulling lucky guests from the crowd to play our cousins. When they slap a name tag on you, you must act the following way for the duration of the day:

COUSIN RICHARD must throw COUSIN ELLIE into any nearby body of water (pool, ocean, baby pool, large puddle, etc.) all day long

COUSIN BOB must attempt to teach Maria how to swim by holding her head under water, risking possible drowning

COUSIN LORRAINE must hold up seaweed to her face and pretend she has sneezed. Repeatedly. She must run after the children and pull this gag often

COUSIN PETE should sing Perry Como songs. An audience member who looks and sounds like Perry Como should play this part

COUSIN ANGELA must laugh at everything Dad says and say, “Oh Junior! You’re such a troublemaker!”

COUSIN SAMMY should try to proposition all of his female cousins, especially the ones under the age of 12

This is what we looked like

COUSIN TOMMY must seek out Chris, and the two must talk about music. They must exclude Maria because girls are dumb. Thankfully, Tommy will redeem himself years later by going to the prom with Maria (this is a different play set in the 1980s)

COUSIN MARY tries to feed everyone she can find. Her cooler contains lasagna, eggs and peppers, eggs and sausage, cake, cookies, beer, soda, home made wine, milk and Bosco. She is constantly laughing.

COUSIN PETE tries to teach everyone how to play bocce. He is patient and kind, and it takes him forever to complete any game of bocce

COUSIN SAL tries to get Pete to stop pulling strangers into the game.

The Lagalante boys will all get into trouble; stealing beer, throwing Paul off the swings, jumping off the see saw while small kids are on it with them, chasing sea gulls, etc.

A special guest appearance features SISTER CLARA (Rosie O’Donnell, in a habit and granny bathing costume from the 1900s). She is there to make sure none of the kids have too much fun.

SISTER MARY ELAINA/ANGIE also shows up (played by Charlotte from Sex in the City) wearing a habit and a bikini. Sister does not know if she wants to be a nun or a layperson; she talks about this with everyone who will listen, including other “cousins,” old and young alike.

The dialog will be improvised and include constant yelling. Lots of grills will be going, music will be blasting, and our crowd will take up all of the tables, the bocce court, and the adjoining basketball and baseball fields. If people who aren’t a part of the show try to use any of these things, we will yell at them until they run away.

The play starts at 8 am and ends at 6 pm. Be ready to eat a lot, drink a lot, swim a lot, yell a lot, and go home fat, drunk, hoarse and sunburned.

Want to come?

So good

Recipe:

Chicken Cutlet Parmesan Hero

What—you don’t consider this beach food?

http://www.cooks.com/rec/view/0,2244,159178-236201,00.html

And here’s one from Rachel Ray:

http://www.rachaelrayshow.com/food/recipes/crispy-chicken-parm-blt-hero-sandwiches/

Wrap multiple sandwiches in tin foil and put them in your cooler. Make sure you bring enough to share with dozens of others. Then head on over to “Now you’re My Cousin.” Don’t forget your ticket and a bottle of aspirin.

So, Hungry Lifers: which post of mine did you enjoy most this past year? What will you bring to “Now You’re My Cousin?” Do you like vanilla? Leave a comment below (or not) and let us all know. Thanks again!

Roger Ebert and Me

By Maria Schulz

When Roger Ebert passed away last week, it made me stop and think about the ways that a person that you never even knew can touch your life. Roger and I were not pen pals or phone buddies; I never wrote him fan mail and I certainly never had his picture hanging on my wall or in my locker.

http://www.nytimes.com/2013/04/05/movies/roger-ebert-film-critic-dies.html?pagewanted=all&_r=1&

But I did look forward to seeing Siskel and Ebert every week and listening to their “thumbs up” or “thumbs down” reviews. I loved how sarcastic and withering they could be when they hated a film, and how passionate and enthusiastic they could be when they liked something.

I felt sorry when Gene Siskel died in 1999, and wondered if that would be the end of “At the Movies.” But it wasn’t the end. Roger Ebert did the show solo for a bit, and then teamed up with other movie critics and continued doing what he loved. He even got his own star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame in 2005.

From time to time, I would catch up with Roger Ebert through articles by him or about him. I always looked for his reviews first when there was a movie I wanted to see, since I felt like he would give me something to think about. Of course, I also read about his devastating cancer and how, after literally losing his voice, he found a new one through his blog and social media.

He talked openly about the fact that many people didn’t want to look him in the eye, as if his illness was too frightening for them or like he was no longer a person. He summed it up perfectly by telling Esquire magazine in 2010: “When I am writing, my problems become invisible, and I am the same person I always was. All is well. I am as I should be.”

I found his need to write and create very inspiring. I also thoroughly enjoyed his blog because I could look up any movie and get an unvarnished opinion about what made the movie work and what made it crash and burn. His Twilight reviews were some of the funniest ones I have ever read.

http://rogerebert.suntimes.com/reviews/the-twilight-saga-new-moon-2009

I guess the thing about Roger Ebert that I remember most was his ability to take something I loved so much and get me to think critically about it. When I was a child, there was nothing I loved more then going to the movies.

By the time I was 12, I was already a veteran bus passenger, and that opened up the world for me. I used to try to go to the movies every week, and I would write the names of the movies on a small journal or notebook that I kept. My goal was to fill up every square inch of space on that notebook with movie titles. I loved talking about the movies I saw and hearing other people’s ideas about them.

Did I really see Hero At Large?

So it was about this time that my parents and I discovered a little show called Sneak Previews on PBS. Two nerdy looking men, one tall and bald, the other short and stout, would sit across from one another in overstuffed chairs and get into arguments about the five movies they were reviewing. Their names: Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert.

Siskel and Ebert At The Movies

My Mom, Dad, and I would sit and laugh most whenever the pair disagreed on the movie. If one of them gave it a “thumbs up” and the other one hotly disagreed, the barbs would start flying. Siskel would call Ebert fat and addled, and Ebert would call Siskel bald and brainless. There was no such thing as political correctness on this show, and these two were hilarious.

I looked forward to running into these two at 7 pm every Saturday night for ages. It was a big thrill when the two of them were reviewing a movie I just saw that day and they felt the same way I did. Even better was when they reviewed a movie that I wanted to see the following week.

Eventually, these two nerdy movie critics became big celebrities, with appearances on The Johnny Carson Show, The David Letterman Show, and every other late night talk show on television. By the mid-80s, their show became Siskel and Ebert At The Movies, and they trademarked “two thumbs up” because it was a hot property.

I loved that these two guys were just brainy writer types in cardigans and turtlenecks who happened to be the hottest commodity around. It gave me hope as a nerd and as a future writer. The result was lots of really terrible reviews written by yours truly. I kept a journal and wrote reviews. My first review was about Lolita with James Mason (loved it) and the next one was about Darby’s Rangers, a so-so movie that starred James Garner.

My first fake review

I never understood (or wanted to understand) most of what Siskel and Ebert were talking about when it came to the technical side of filmmaking. That didn’t interest me at all. To me, movie making was a lot like sausage making. Don’t show me what goes in the sausage. Just let me eat the sausage and enjoy it.

Life was simple and enjoyable. I had my routine, and it included Saturdays at the movies and Saturday nights with Siskel & Ebert. It would have gone on like that forever except for one thing: my parents sent me to spend a few weeks with my grandmother the summer I was 12.

My grandmother and uncle had moved to a new apartment building where they didn’t know anyone. Nonie hated her new apartment. She was lonely and bored. She missed living in the small town where she could walk to the beach or to her Senior Citizen Center. In her new place, she was isolated.

When Uncle Don went away on vacation, my parents thought I could spend some time with her to keep her company and cheer her up. Of course, now that I was old enough to have some independence, I didn’t want to go. I knew my brothers and their friends would have all sorts of adventures while I was gone, and my grandmother and I would be in our pajamas by about 8 pm every night. On some nights, the sun set after we did.

To make everything worse, I was sure I would miss going to the movies. I knew my brothers would go to at least one movie while I was gone, and I wasn’t wrong. Chris called to tell me how they all went to see the latest James Bond flick.

“But don’t feel too bad,” he said. “We had to sit in the first row and crane our necks.”

“I would kill to sit in the first row and crane my neck!” I said, as Chris laughed at me.

I wanted to go see that movie! I had a fake review to write in my journal! Nonie could see that I was disappointed.

“I would take you to the movies, but there’s no movie theater that we can walk to,” she said. Life was difficult now that she didn’t drive anymore. “How about this? Tonight you can watch anything you want on television.”

“Okay,” I grumbled. This was actually a big thing. Sure, I’d still have to suffer through Mike Douglas and Dinah Shore in the afternoon, but later, I could tune in to SOAP instead of Canon.

Shake your hands, snap your fingers, and you too can disappear

Well, that was the game plan, anyway. But every time I put something on, she was appalled. She ended up watching Canon while I read every book on my summer reading list. Later that night while we lay in our twin beds, I tried to turn on “Trilogy of Terror.”

“Do your parents know you watch this junk?” Nonie asked.

“Yes, but they don’t care,” I replied.

“Well, I care,” she replied. “Turn it off. You’ll have nightmares.”

Isn’t he charming?

Twelve is a tough age for everyone; my grandmother approached me like I was an alien that resembled her granddaughter; I approached her like everything she did bored me.

When a new Burger King opened up a block away, she was delighted. We trudged over there at 7:00 every morning for the two weeks I was there. I stood there turning fifty shades of red while she ordered.

“Hi there kiddo,” She said to the hapless counter girl. “How are you today? I’m going to give you a very long order, but I know you’ll get it right. Like the commercial says, special orders don’t upset us!”

My grandmother took a breath while the counter girl set her mouth in a grim line. “What can I get you, ma’am?” she said.

“Well, sweetie, I want the egg sandwich, but I want my bread unbuttered. Also, no salt. Do you use powdered eggs? I hate powdered eggs; I don’t like runny eggs either. Make sure they’re not dry OR runny. Also I want my coffee with Sweet & Low. Do you have Sweet & Low? I like bananas with my breakfast. Do you have bananas? Do you have any other fruit? I need fruit. What kind of fruit do you have?”

Of course, there was nothing wrong with being very specific about what you wanted, but the idea that someone would think my grandmother (and by extension, I) was annoying was reason enough to die of embarrassment.

The whole visit went like this. My grandmother kept farmer’s hours, and since we were sharing a bedroom, I was up when she was up. That means that when I wanted to watch a movie on the late show, I couldn’t. And when she wanted to run to Burger King at 6 am, it was all I could do to keep her from dragging me there until 7 am.

I was getting the feeling that we really didn’t like each other anymore or have anything in common. That is, until Saturday night, when Sneak Previews came on.

“You want to watch this show with me?” I asked my grandmother.

“Sure! I love that show.”

Sssh. The show’s starting.

So we sat together and watched Siskel and Ebert skewer the movies and each other. When the show was over, my grandmother told me all about the movies she loved.

“The last movie I ever saw with your grandfather was Dr. Zhivago,” she said. “It was so romantic! We loved it. I really miss him.”

“I do too,” I replied.

“When we were young, your grandfather and I used to go to Coney Island. We had so much fun there! We would take photos in the photo booth and walk up and down the boardwalk. Sometimes we would take in a movie. I loved going to the movies!”

Yes, they were young once

We talked and talked about all of our favorite movies. My grandmother stopped looking at me like a slug that liked to sleep past 7 am since she saw I financed all of my movie trips with babysitting money. I stopped looking at her like an old lady who didn’t know how to have fun. I actually began looking forward to seeing my grandmother and spending time with her again.

The years passed. Siskel and Ebert reviewed a movie called Cocoon, and my grandmother called to ask me if I could take her.

“It’s about old people and it got two thumbs up. Can you take me to see it?” my grandmother said.

“Sure!” I replied. Since I had my license by that time, I drove out to her house and picked her up.

Fun for young and old

As fate would have it, my grandmother moved back to the same apartment she’d shared with my grandfather after she ran into her old landlady in town. It turned out that the landlady wanted my grandmother and uncle back. It took about 2 seconds for my grandmother to say yes.

My grandmother went on to become president of her Senior Citizens Club, got a babysitting job and started taking trips to Atlantic City. She was so busy that seeing her at all was a treat.

She enjoyed a Tab with lemon and only a ¼ cup of ice (I didn’t mind when she gave the counter girl specific instructions) while I munched on popcorn. Then we settled in and watched the movie about old people that Siskel and Ebert enjoyed.

That was a long time ago. I haven’t been to the movies with my grandmother in more than two decades. I guess I have Siskel & Ebert to thank for making my grandmother and me friends again—and for entertaining us both for all of those years.

Now that Roger Ebert has joined his friend, Gene Siskel, in that great theater in the sky, I hope that they’re reviewing some fantastic old movies. And I hope my grandmother and grandfather get to see Dr. Zhivago together again.

Recipe

Heavenly

A reporter once asked Roger Ebert which movie he thought played in Heaven, and what kind of food would he eat there? He said that in his Heaven, Citizen Kane is always playing and you can eat as much Vanilla Hagen Daz ice cream as you like. Ask me the same question and I’d say that The Great Escape would be playing and I’d have a bowl of Chunky Monkey. Here are two recipes for all of you to make your own ice cream and enjoy while watching your favorite flick:

http://www.tasteofhome.com/recipes/blueberry-cheesecake-ice-cream

http://www.tasteofhome.com/Recipes/Caramel-Fudge-Sundaes

No ice cream maker? No problem:

http://www.tasteofhome.com/Recipes/How-To-Cook/How-to-Make-Ice-Cream-Without-an-Ice-Cream-Maker

So, Hungry Lifers: did you like Siskel & Ebert? What’s your favorite movie? Which movie do you think plays in heaven—and what kind of ice cream would you eat there? Please leave a comment and let us all know. Thanks!

What’s Cooking?

By Maria Schulz

When you watch TV, does it infuriate you when sitcom moms and dads put the most extravagant meals on the table…even though they just came through the door and could never swing such a feast in the five minutes they’ve had to whip it up?

Hurry!

Okay, so maybe it’s just me. Coming up with a dinner plan is more stressful than being a contestant on Beat the Clock. I usually have no time whatsoever to throw something together, and a whole slew of activities planned for afterwards. Plus there are crazed people banging their forks and screaming something that sounds like HUNGRY HUNGRY HUNGRY HUNGRY who also resemble a torch-bearing mob.

Like this, only not as funny

I think my children will inscribe, “What’s For Dinner?” on my headstone, since they seem to enjoy asking me that question so much. I used to enjoy the supermarket commercial ditty about that very question when I was a kid. Now? Not so much.

To be or not to be is not really the question in my world. What’s for dinner is a more pressing concern. I have a stable of steady meals that I work in and out of a seemingly endless 2-week rotation, and some other meals that have appeared here and there. Here are some of them:

• Chicken Tetrazzini
• Spaghetti and Meatballs (chicken, turkey or beef)
• Marinated London broil
• Arroz con Pollo (Chicken and Rice for you non Spanish speakers)
• Pork Tenderloin
• Salmon with Dijon Mustard Glaze
• Grilled Swordfish
• Baked Flounder
• Turkey Tacos
• Chicken Cutlets
• Chicken Meatballs and Rigatoni with Tomato Sauce
• Roasted Turkey Breast
• Balsamic Chicken
• Pasta Carbonara
• Beef Stew
• Pumpkin Soup
• Baked Ziti
• Lasagna

Since even I get tired of my cooking, I have tried to find new ways to liven things up. Here are the dishes that didn’t make the cut:

Eggplant & Fontina Gratin

As a child, I didn’t like eggplant. The texture was weird and it was my least favorite meal cooked by my mom, who was a really good cook. Now that I’m the mom, I try to get my family to eat it. It makes Fridays in Lent much easier and sort of healthy. This particular dish was not a hit, even though on paper it seemed like a winner. There was eggplant and cheese! The lesson I learned was: eggplant parmesan is the only eggplant dish that has a chance with my family.

Spice-Rubbed Flank Steak

The steak itself was delicious, but the spice rub smelled like a gardener on a 100-degree day. I will have to bring the spice level WAY down to get my family to try this one again.

Broccoli Soup

My father-in-law always loved when I served this soup on holidays. However, he passed away about 17 years ago (it had nothing to do with the soup) and I haven’t been able to convince anyone else to eat it since.

Gnocchi

I used to make this for my husband and myself all the time. Unfortunately, I ate it while in the throes of morning sickness, when I used to get so uncontrollably sick that some of my co-workers feared I was carrying the e-bola virus. That took gnocchi off the menu map forever.

Vegetable Kebobs

No, my children were not fooled just because I put Portobello mushrooms on the kebabs and gave them grill marks. “But aren’t the mushrooms meaty?” I said. “No!” they replied, with more venom then that angry mob. This one got many resounding thumbs down and multiple sad faces around the picnic table. The next time I made kebobs, I did add chicken and steak, and this got at least some of the vegetables eaten.

Linguine with White Clam Sauce

No one will touch this except me, which is okay by me. However, since I don’t like running Mom’s Diner, I tend not to make it—otherwise I’m cooking four meals in one night. This is something I get and enjoy when we go out.

Lentil Soup

When I was a kid, I had a friend from the neighborhood whose mom was a fantastic cook. I loved getting invited to her house for dinner, especially on nights during Lent or on Fridays.

Why, you ask? Because her mother would always make lentil soup, and they would always invite me to join them. This family of all girls could be shrieking at each other loud enough to shatter glass, or pulling each other’s hair out, but so what. I just sat there enjoying my big bowl of lentil soup with a dollop of sour cream on top and hunk of Italian bread on the side. My friend’s Dad was the only other one eating quietly, and to reward me for not shattering his eardrums, he would let me try a little jelly jar glass of wine. Fun!

Today, my husband and kids don’t see the point in Lentil Soup. It also gets multiple thumbs down and big unhappy faces. I make it for myself and enjoy it for lunch.

Pot Pies

This one was another staple of my childhood. Back in the day, I really thought that the 4 Basic Food Groups were:

Count Chocula

Reggie Bars

Milk

Frozen Pot Pies

My mother loved pot pie night. It allowed her to come home from work, watch a good solid hour of Guiding Light, and then pull out the pot pies from the freezer. We would mark each one with a “C” for chicken, “T” for Turkey, or “B” for beef, pop them in the oven, and then wait 45 minutes. Oila! Done.

I tried my hand at a homemade pot pie once but it was a lot of work for not much return. No one said, “Wow! You are the next Julia Child. Thank you for spending your very valuable time making this for me!” Instead, they just kind of said things like, “I don’t like carrots,” “Why did you put peas in there?” and “Can I have a frozen pizza?”

So I tried frozen pot pies, and for a while my family was okay with it. But then I ruined it by going to the well one too many times, and when they saw it on the table, I earned the sound of crickets instead of applause. So Pot Pies went bye bye for a while. Trust me though…like Arnold Schwarzenegger in The Terminator, frozen pot pies will be back.

I’ll be back

Any and all boxed foods that promise to turn your ground beef, ground chicken, ground turkey, or tuna into a great meal.

Listen, how hard is it to brown your meat, add seasonings and tomatoes, and throw in some freshly boiled corkscrew pasta and nuked mixed vegetables? Let me tell you: not very. And in my tortured culinary experience, any canned tuna-turned-casserole is just plain nasty. My husband put a ban on these dinners since his mother was a big fan back in the 70s. In this case, I’m with him.

So Hungry Lifers…what’s your favorite, quick dinner? I can use all the help I can get, so please leave me a comment and give me some ideas. Thanks!

Recipe:

Lentil Soup

So good

Here’s a lentil soup recipe from Alton Brown that got a 5-star rating:

http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/alton-brown/lentil-soup-recipe/index.html

Don’t know what grains of paradise are, or where to find them? Read this link:

http://www.thespicehouse.com/spices/grains-of-paradise

If you don’t want to splurge on that costly spice, try this reader-approved recipe from Giada:

http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/giada-de-laurentiis/lentil-soup-recipe/index.html

A little sour cream on top—and a glass of red wine—is all you need for a satisfying and even healthy meal. Enjoy!

My Oscar Hangover

By Maria Schulz

 

Take me home

Yes, the Oscars happened almost 2 weeks ago, but I’m still seeing red carpet shows and Oscar commentaries in an endless loop on the TV at the gym. Usually, well-dressed women and men sit around in a circle, speaking earnestly about the ramifications of winning or not winning this coveted golden boy from the very, super-important Academy of Motion Pictures.

Is it just me, or do most people find that these award shows simply exist to give The Simpsons writers an easy target for their next plot? I often think that’s the reason for the Halftime Show at the Super Bowl, but that’s a whole different post.

I think the Academy Awards could really last just about 10 minutes. If it were up to me, I’d put my brother Jude in charge of the proceedings. He could walk out on the stage, scowl, and then put on his glasses with a long, tortured sigh that made him sound an awful lot like my mother. Then, he’d read these four categories and winners, with some short banter:

Best Supporting Actor: The Django guy, Christoph Waltz. Cool, man.

Best Supporting Actress: Ann Hathaway. Hey, what’s with that dress?

Best Actress: Jennifer Lawrence. Watch the stairs!!! Oh sorry. Guess I should’ve said that before you got up.

Best Actor: Daniel Day Lewis. Loved you as Hawkeye in Last of the Mohicans. But My Left Foot? Not so much. I’ll catch you in Lincoln when it goes to DVD.

Best Movie: Argo. Ben, I didn’t see it, but good for you! You showed the Academy big time.

He would lob the Statuettes out to the winners before they even hit the stage and wrap up the proceedings by saying. “That’s it! Now go home!”

But instead…the show lasts 4 or 5 hours, with endless speeches, tears, dances, songs, and a montage of dead celebrities.

I read somewhere that a whole gang of people from Andy Griffith’s home town were so upset that he was snubbed by the dead celeb montage producers that they had their own protest. The Thursday night after the Oscars, they pre-empted the hot Thursday night lineup (really? Are Cheers and Friends still on?) so they could watch Matlock re-runs all night long.

Hmmm…if Matlock is the best you can do to represent Andy Griffith’s body of work, maybe the Academy had its reasons.

I always enjoy watching the stars sashay across the red carpet. Just like some people only watch the Super Bowl for the commercials, I’m one of those people who gets a kick out of seeing everyone looking all glam on Oscar Night.

People are still talking about Ann Hathaway’s Prada gown like she committed the crime of the century by wearing it. I mean, she probably had about 50 people standing around her during the fittings, bringing her mineral water and fixing her makeup. Do you mean no one ever said, “Ann, ditch this gown. The seams look like elongated nipple slits!” What are those people for if not to notice these things?

 

Interesting seams

The placement of the seams was odd, but I still thought she looked classy and beautiful. The truth is, she could show up in a burlap sack and look great. But what do I know? She was on the top of every “EPIC FAIL” red carpet list out there.

Really? Didn’t anyone see that mess of a dress that Kristen Stewart was wearing? It didn’t even look like it fit. But still, you have to hand it to her: despite the crutches, the bad dress, and the sneer, she still managed to walk the red carpet. I thought that was admirable, especially now that she’s a vampire.

If I had been there, I would have asked these hard-hitting questions:

“Kristen! Kristen! Did you get hurt in the War between the Werewolves and the Vampires? When you became a vampire, did you lose all sense of fashion? Did Victoria come back from the really undead to break your leg? Or did you burn your foot on Edward when he was glittering in the sunlight?”

These are the kinds of questions I think people (especially Twi-Moms) really want to get the answers to, and most likely the reason I don’t have a press pass.

How about Joan Rivers? She sure has a lot to say on her Fashion Show. I don’t necessarily agree with anything she says, but she does make me laugh out loud just because of how outrageous her comments tend to be. The thing I wonder about her is: if she’s been saying anything and everything that pops into her head for the past 70+ years, what happens when being old kicks in and SHE LOSES HER FILTER? Now that will be an Oscar Red Carpet Show that no one will want to miss.

When Kelly Osborne, her illustrious co-host, wondered what Kristin Stewart was doing on the Red Carpet since she looked so unhappy there, Joan replied, “she’s probably on the hunt for a vampire, or a married English director she can sleep with.” OUCH. Ah, the Oscars really do bring out the best in people!

The press also laced into Renee Zellwegger for the gown she wore since it’s the same color as Oscar himself. One magazine even gave her an “F” for wearing a gold dress. Now come on! She looks smoking hot in that gown. It’s not her fault that Oscar is the same color. Besides, he doesn’t even own a dress!

 

Looks good to me

And what about Jennifer Aniston? She looked gorgeous in that floor length red Valentino gown. I was slightly confused, though, because I recently saw a headline that screamed: JEN & JUSTIN ARE HAVING TWINS! I was looking forward to seeing a pregnant celebrity looking enormous, but she didn’t look pregnant at all. At that moment, my mother’s voice popped into my head, saying: “This is why you shouldn’t trust supermarket tabloids!” As my daughters would say, “true dat, Mom.”

I think the biggest surprise of the night was that Meryl Streep didn’t win an Oscar in every single category, including Best Boy.

All of these Oscar thoughts made me remember how much I loved awards shows when I was a kid. I used to see a minimum of 30 movies a year (all with babysitting money that I earned) and spent countless hours watching TV and even Broadway shows. I loved watching Awards shows and got an enormous kick out of seeing everyone’s reaction when they won.

Lucky for me, this coincided with the dreaded Speech class assignment: create, write and perform a 5-minute speech on any topic in front of the class. Since the Academy Awards, Emmys and Tonys were all on in the weeks before, I knew that was the topic for me.

I was sick to my stomach the day of the speech because:

1) I am shy. Really. People don’t believe this, but it’s true

2) I hate performing in front of people. I do it when I have to, but I’m not the person who lives to do it

3) I love comedy, and realize how hard it is to make people laugh (on purpose)

But I was resigned to my fate. If I didn’t get up there and at least try, my speech teacher, Mr. Pluta, would have no problem metaphorically slashing me to bits and destroying what was left of my shaky self-confidence. Then, horror of horrors, I would get an F. It would go on my permanent record card and I would never, ever, be able to get a respectable job or enter the navy. Not that I wanted to enter the navy, but I didn’t want that option closed to me forever either.

It’s scary out there

No way was I going to get an F (unless of course, I wore gold to the Academy Awards).

My speech teacher called my name, and I went up in front of everyone.

“And the winner is: MARIA!” I yelled.

I began to scream like someone was taking a machete to the back of my head. Then I started jumping up and down and crying. I held an imaginary microphone up and fumbled for my imaginary note-cards.

“I’d like to thank my parents, brothers, relatives, dogs, friends, The Academy, all the little people, my hair stylist, Sister Barbara, Mrs. Costello and J.R. Ewing from Dallas. Thank you all for inspiring me and believing in me!”

Once everyone stopped laughing, I launched into real speeches that were given at awards shows, including the one I admired by James Garner when he won the Emmy for Best Actor in The Rockford Files. It went something like this:

 

Best. Speech. Ever.

“Wow, this is great. Thanks a lot.” He waved the statuette at the audience and left the stage.

My speech was a big hit and actually won me a spot in the coveted year-end Speech Contest. I was competing against some Speech Contest heavy-hitters like my brother Chris, my best friend Maureen, and my classmate Gus.

I was sick for the week leading up to the contest because I had visions of blowing it and being pelted with tomatoes and eggs. My classmates were a really tough crowd.

When my turn came to go out on the stage, I brought the house down with my screams and my acceptance speeches. Everyone was laughing and I was having fun. But then…

I looked out in the audience and saw Chris laughing.

Chris has always had the power to make me fall over laughing at the most inopportune moments. He realized immediately that I was in trouble and shook his head at me, as if to say KEEP GOING!

I searched “people who bombed on stage” and this is the image that came up

Too late. I didn’t fall over laughing, but I did manage to forget my lines for a soul-crushing eternity. It could have been 10 seconds or two hours, I’m not really sure since I’ve managed to block out most of the event up to this point. What I do remember is that everyone in the audience looked sorry for me. I think I would have preferred being pelted by tomatoes and eggs.

Don’t leave home without them

When I finally regained my footing, I managed to win back the crowd and finish without blowing any more of my lines. But I knew I wouldn’t be walking away with Oscar gold. Thankfully, I didn’t have Joan Rivers or the Fashion Police there to make me feel even worse  by giving me an “F” for the dress I was wearing.

Maureen, Chris, and Gus took 1^st, 2^nd and 3^rd place. The judges gave me 2^nd honorable mention. Thank goodness Meryl Streep wasn’t there.

Recipe

When life hands you a sad crowd who might throw tomatoes and eggs at you, what should you make? A frittata. Try this Italian Frittata:

http://allrecipes.com/recipe/italian-frittata/detail.aspx

If you don’t like salami, you can substitute bacon or pancetta (or whatever you like).

Here’s the Top 20 Frittatas at All Recipes:

http://allrecipes.com/recipes/breakfast-and-brunch/egg-dishes/frittata/top.aspx

One  more:

http://whatscookingamerica.net/KarenCalanchini/ZucchiniFrittata.htm

So Hungry Lifers, what’s your favorite Oscar moment? What did you think about the Red Carpet? Did you ever have to give an acceptance speech? Please leave a comment below and let us all know. Thanks!

Valentine’s Day: The Mourning After

By Maria Schulz

Always right

The big day—Valentine’s Day—has come and gone. You know, that special day when men feel horribly pressured to give gifts and be romantic and women wait by the window, watching for their life-changing big gift to arrive.

I grew up with boys, so I remember how much pressure there was to get a gift that sent the right message, cost the right amount of money, and satisfied some inner need of the girl. You know, the one that was never expressed in words but that she definitely expected you to understand—because after all, if you loved her, you’d know what she wanted without asking.

From lots of trial, error, angry girlfriends and even angrier breakups, the men I’ve known have figured out a few critical things about gift-giving in the minefield of Valentine’s Day.

The 10 Top Things to Remember Next Valentine’s Day

1) Do not ever, ever, EVER give your girlfriend a gift of jewelry that comes in a ring box, or one that remotely looks like a ring box, unless you are getting engaged. To do so will result in an immediate confiscation of all brownie points earned thus far, and long and unhappy days and weeks ahead for all parties.

Danger, Will Robinson!

2) Flower colors really do have meaning. For the love of God, do NOT give yellow roses (meaning: friendship) when you should give red roses (meaning: passionate love).

3) If you are just starting out with a new girlfriend, a small stuffed animal and a box of chocolates should be enough to satisfy the raging Valentine’s beast. But that’s only if she’s under the age of 17.

4) Never, ever give that same gift to a committed girlfriend, fiancée or wife, unless you want to learn the real meaning of regret.

5) Those commercials on TV for giant stuffed Teddy Bears are cute and funny, but don’t expect to see a 10,000-megawatt smile on your lady friend’s face when you hand her this gift. This mammoth dust-collector takes up an entire couch and should be expected to pay rent if he’s going to live with her full time.

If he intends to get a job, then maybe….

6) When your girlfriend, wife or mother says, “Don’t get me flowers. I don’t need flowers!” what she really means is, “of course I don’t need flowers, but I’m saying this so we can keep up the element of surprise. You don’t need a big screen TV, but that didn’t stop you!”

7) Appliances are not romantic gifts. If you buy one for your girlfriend (even boyfriends don’t want one), you are not romantic. You’re lazy! Wait until February 15 to buy her that new coffeemaker. You won’t be sorry.

8) If you live in the tropics or are a small child, by all means gather up a freshly picked bouquet of flowers and feel good about yourself. All others: call a florist.

9) Don’t have much money? Put even the smallest amount of effort into the gift, and you will be thanked tenfold. If her favorite romantic movie of all time is Sleepless in Seattle, buy her the DVD or download the movie, cook her dinner (chicken Kiev or chicken nuggets, doesn’t matter as long as you try) and sacrifice one night of torture watching that chick flick for a gift that gives you romantic street cred.

A little romance

10) Remember this Golden Rule: if your sweetheart works in an office and every other woman in the office gets flowers AND SHE DOESN’T, you will be in trouble. Don’t be that guy.

I have always enjoyed hearing others tell me about their Valentine’s Day gifts. The champagne/flowers,/engagement ring/best Valentine’s Day of my life stories are always lovely and charming, but give me a good old cried all night/crash-and-burn/fiery conflagration/worst Valentine’s Day of my life story, and I’m all ears.

From my many years of listening, observing, and oh yeah, being a girl, I have heard about (and lived through) many terrible Valentine’s Days. Here is a very unscientific poll of the worst Valentine’s Day gifts ever:

For the Ladies….

• Mini-Vacuum
• Toaster
• Vest
• Galoshes
• Umbrella
• Hats
• Bag of M&Ms
• Framed baby photo—of boyfriend!
• Tickets to a wrestling match
• Dead Flowers
• No Flowers
• Nothing

For the Men…

• Frames
• Ties
• Shirt
• DVD of any rom-com or chick flick
• Key chains
• Gloves
• Flowers
• Car Wax
• Gift certificate for mani/pedi
• Candles
• Book of Love Poems
• Downloads of your (note: not his. He doesn’t care) favorite romantic songs

I’ve gotten my fair share of terrible gifts in my time. Yes, that framed baby photo of the boyfriend was mine. I think I would’ve preferred a tee-shirt that said “I’m With Stupid!”

This would’ve been a better gift

Luckily, I am blessed with a husband who is kind, considerate, and doesn’t listen to me when I tell him not to get me flowers. I have also gotten my fair share of terrific gifts, and even though they are not as funny as the bad ones, here’s a story about one of my favorites.

When I was 8, I took a bad fall. I had to wear a neck brace, suffered a terrible concussion, and sported a lovely, eggplant-shaped bruise on my face. My inability to walk around without getting dizzy and throwing up meant I had to stay in bed for 3 weeks.

Don’t try this at home.

February 14^th fell during that time, and I was feeling down since I thought I wouldn’t be getting any Valentine’s Day cards that year. But lo and behold, my 3^rd grade teacher had all of my classmates make cards and write me letters. Mostly, they said: “Get Well Maria!” and “Come back soon! We miss you!” But here are the two that I enjoyed the most, for very different reasons.

Dear Maria:

I would’ve never sent you this card, but Mrs. G. made me do it. The class is much quieter without you and I can get a lot of work done. I don’t miss you but I am sorry you broke your head. See you soon.

Thomas

Then there was this one:

Dear Dear Dear Dear Maria,

Life just isn’t as much fun without you. I haven’t laughed once since you’ve been gone. There’s no one to share my snack with at snack time, and Mary Beth keeps playing her flute and singing “Kumbayah” but you’re not here to laugh along with me! Get better and come back soon. I miss you!

Here is some money to get you through. Have Chris go get you some Wacky Packs to keep you company while you rest.

Love XXOOXX,

Perette

P.S. Don’t listen to Thomas. He’s an idiot.

Change is good!

Perette taped $1 in change to my card, which was also decorated with hearts, flowers, kittens and puppies. She knew I was a sucker for kittens and puppies. $1 was enough for 4 wacky packs, so Chris and I could share. We sat in my bed and howled with laughter over our cards. Then, we almost broke our teeth on the hard-as-wood gum that came along with it. Those were good times and resulted in one of the best Valentine’s Days ever.

Gotta love ‘em

So Hungry Lifers…what’s your favorite Valentine’s memory? Best gift? Worst? Please help me continue my unscientific research and let us all know by leaving a comment below.  Thanks!

Recipe:

Chicken Kiev

Yes, Valentine’s Day is over, but there’s a long weekend ahead. Go ahead and cook—and start earning those brownie points all over again.

http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/alton-brown/chicken-kiev-recipe/index.html

Have the butcher butterfly the breasts for you and pound them to 1/8” thickness if you can’t do it yourself.

Enjoy!

Puberty Night

by Maria Schulz

Back when I was a kid (way, way back, when dinosaurs roamed the earth), my parents interacted with us in very different ways than modern parents interact with their children today. I’m not saying it was better, just different.

Like my parents, the schools were happy to open the doors and let us kids go off to our own lives, with very little in the way of guidance or direction. You (or rather, I) would no sooner approach a teacher for answers to questions about God (yardstick alert!), creation (DON’T YOU READ YOUR BIBLE?), fashion tips (my teachers didn’t know how to dress either), and certainly NEVER EVER EVER did we ask about sex.

That’s why I was kind of amused to see an entire semester’s worth of planned activities surrounding the topic of puberty at my children’s schools.

First, there was Movie Night, for the parents. I wasn’t sure what I was in for, so I went feeling slightly ill. What I found was an auditorium filled with giggling, joke-cracking parents who interrupted the teacher, laughed whenever he said things like “raging hormones” and “your children need deodorant,” and talked incessantly throughout the very educational cartoon.

The cartoon was titled something like “I’m Growing Up!” and it featured a very congenial stick figure who had hair sprouting out in weird places, acne all over his face, neck and back, and who could at any time become a boy with new and interesting dreams or a sobbing girl who needed her stick figure mom to tell her about her newest friend.

I left there feeling glad that my children weren’t going to see this movie, because it confused me. I began to re-think my own hard-won facts now that Hermaphrodite Stick Figure shared his/her vast store of knowledge with us.

A few months later, all of the moms were invited to Puberty Night with their daughters. All of the dads were invited to their own Puberty Night with their sons. Thankfully, each event was held at different schools so we didn’t have to deal with all the girls trying to get noticed while the boys marched on in complete oblivion. And that’s just the parents.

“Hello girls and moms,” the facilitator said. “Tonight I’m going to help you all explore what puberty means to you.”

The girls broke out into peals of nervous laughter while the mothers fidgeted.

The facilitator went up to the white board and drew a picture of a stick figure girl. It looked sort of like this:

Life before puberty

Then she turned to the girls.

“Who wants to come up here and draw ONE THING that happens to you when you go through puberty?

About 10 different girls ran up to the board and scribbled something onto the body of our stick figure girl, so that eventually she looked like this:

Life after puberty.

The girls were beside themselves with laughter while one or two of the moms even smiled. I was wondering what was going on across town with the boys. Were there a lot of laughs, or were the dads and boys just as uncomfortable? My daughters left there mildly amused and not at all terrified.  They even received a handout called “Puberty Chit Chat—for Girls” that included interview questions for mom and daughter.  I can ask my daughters things like:

“What is your favorite music?”

“How are you feeling lately about yourself?”

“What are the biggest pressures you are feeling right now?

In turn, my daughters can ask me the following questions:

“What did you want to be when you grew up?”

“What was the greatest pressure you experienced when you were my age?”

“How did you learn about puberty?”

It was that last question that got me thinking about the ways I learned about life, death, and puberty.

When I would complain or whine about life being unfair, my mother, grandmothers or Uncle Don would come along and say helpful things like, “who told you life was fair. LIFE ISN’T FAIR!”

When someone I loved died, my father shared the news by saying helpful things like, “hey! Grandpa is dead. You can cry if you want.” See, there was no sugar coating where I came from.

But my favorite memories are the ones in which the adults in my life tried to explain their least favorite topic of all: puberty. I had managed to be completely oblivious well into my 11^th year and probably would have continued that way for many months to come if it hadn’t been for the hit sitcom, All In the Family.

Those were the days.

On one episode, Gloria is talking to her mother Edith, father Archie, and husband Michael, and she’s being really snotty and mean.

“Why are you in such a bad mood?” Michael says.

“It’s because I’ve got my friend,” Gloria replies.

Friend? What friend? I didn’t see any other people in this episode. Sometimes Gloria, Edith, Mike or Archie had a friend on the show, and that friend had a name, like Irene Lorenzo, Beverly La Salle, Stuart, or Stretch. But no matter how hard I tried to see the friend on screen, I just couldn’t.

The rest of the episode had Gloria acting like a total lunatic, fighting with her parents and husband, and being completely impossible. She kept walking around with a hot water bottle pressed against her side and an angry sneer on her face.

Sad Sally

Finally, towards the end of the episode, Edith got Gloria and Mike to stop fighting by telling them a story about her mother and father and their fight about maple syrup. Everyone kissed and made up. I still couldn’t find her friend.

This perplexed me. I was usually pretty good at figuring out what was going on, but I could not make this entire story line out at all. So the next day, while driving with my mother to pick my father up from the 7 Train in Flushing, I asked her about it.

“What did she mean, she had her friend?” I said, as we drove down 45^th Avenue and turned onto Kissena Blvd. “I didn’t see any friends on that show all night!”

I noticed my mother was gripping the steering wheel so tight that her knuckles were turning white. It was dark out, but the headlights from the passing cars and buses illuminated my mother’s face just enough so I could see her lips pursed in a tight line.

“She doesn’t mean a person,” my mother said, eyes fixed on the road ahead. “She means something else.”

My mother proceeded to tell me who, or should I say “what,” Gloria’s friend was. Then she actually connected it to my life by telling me that I would get my own friend, probably sooner then later.

I said nothing, but wished I could throw the car door open, run down Kissena Blvd into oncoming traffic, and say, “No way! I don’t want or need any more friends! What kind of friend is that anyway?”

There goes the bus!

But before I could attempt to change the course of fate and end up being run over by the Q27 bus, my father jumped into the car and our conversation was over. I felt nauseous. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t listen to my parents argue or “dialog,” as they used to say in their hippy-speak Marriage Encounter lingo.

Thankfully, my mother didn’t bring up the conversation again. But now light bulbs were starting to go off as I began to understand the many, many commercials that played during the day while my soap operas were on. I never wondered what any of those products were for, because when I asked, my mother or brothers would just say, “don’t worry about it.”

So I didn’t worry about it.

That is, until my 7^th grade teacher sent home a note, sealed in an envelope, and yelled at us “to make sure we had our parents sign the consent form and bring it in tomorrow!”

I hand-delivered this missive to my mother and watched her open it.

“What is it?” I asked. I thought maybe I would have to donate one of my kidneys, or increase the number of pennies I put in my Mite Boxes. I was hoping it was the kidney.

Anything but mite boxes.

“Mrs. Greene is going to teach you about puberty tomorrow.” My mother said.

I gasped. “She’s going to teach the whole class about it?”

“Yes, apparently,” my mother replied.

“I don’t want to learn about that with the boys,” I said.

“Oh don’t make a big deal about it,” my mother said. “It’s all perfectly natural. Your brother Chris has to learn about it too.”

Well, at least now I was laughing.

The next day, we all dragged our sorry selves into Mrs. Greene’s class and sat down. Mrs. G. was a tiny little lady with short black hair, big-rimmed glasses and a great big laugh. Mrs. G. always wanted the candy I hid in my bolero. She was a big fan of Sugar Babies and Reese’s Pieces, and that made me glad. She never asked for my Almond Joys. On most days, she greeted us with a big, ready smile on her face.

Fits easily into your Catholic school bolero

Unfortunately that wasn’t how it was going to go for us today. Mrs. G. grasped her pointer stick in her hands and wrote some terms on the blackboard. When she got to “hormones” and “menses,” one of the boys in my class burst out in gales of laughter. Mrs. G. whipped around and slammed her pointer on his desk.

Perfect for pointing at maps and silencing unruly children

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” she said, as she stuck the pointer in his chest. “I don’t want to hear another word out of you, or anyone else!”

So, we sat there in stunned silence and watched as Mrs. G. drew lots of chalk outlines of the human reproductive system on the board. At least, I think it was the human reproductive system. At one point, it looked like she had drawn a goat.

“And that’s how babies are born!” Mrs. G. yelled, as she smashed down her pointer. She was in a sweat and looked as unhappy as the day she told us her dog had died.  “Does anybody have any questions?” she yelled.

So confused.

I wanted to ask, “What has a goat got to do with the human reproductive system?” but decided not to tempt the fates. Mrs. G. was so lathered up that if I said anything, she just might put that pointer right through my skull. I averted all eye contact and breathed a prayer until, thankfully, the bell rang and we all dashed out of the class.

I was really glad that no one else ever brought the topic of puberty up. I got my knowledge in the same places that everyone else did: SOAP, All in the Family, Dallas, Dynasty, Prince songs on the radio and daytime television. And of course, out in the street, in the bowling alley or in the locker room with all the other kids who didn’t know anything.

Recipe:

So good!

Maple Walnut Cookies

http://www.crisco.com/Recipes/Details.aspx?recipeID=1272

I chose this recipe as a nod to Edith from All in the Family, my honorary “other mother.” Enjoy!

The most lovable dingbat on the planet

So, Hungry Lifers: what’s your favorite puberty story? Did you learn about the birds and the bees from your parents, teachers, equally uninformed friends, TV or Prince songs? Please leave a comment and let us all know. Thanks!

Mayans, Memories, and Manicottis

by Maria Schulz

Several months ago, I wrote a post called “My Bucket List.” I felt prompted to write it since the Mayans predicted that Armageddon would strike on December 21^st, 2012. Here we are in January, so I’m guessing that the Mayans got that wrong. I never really expected the world to end, but what better way to motivate myself? Here’s a list of what I accomplished, what I didn’t, and what I just forgot about.

1. Hiring a personal chef.

Originally I said I wanted to hire a French chef, but then I realized that I don’t really like French food, so that was out. The second part of this Bucket List dream was hiring a classically trained Italian chef. I said that I wanted a little old Italian lady who was about 80, looked just like my grandmother, was possibly related to me, stood about 4 feet tall, and would teach me how to make manicotti from scratch.

Luckily, my cousin Eleanor reads this blog and called me.

“Are you talking about me?” Eleanor said.

“Yes! How did you know?” I replied.

“I’m 80 years old, look just like your grandmother, and I’m related to you. But I’m not only 4 feet tall!”

Eleanor emailed me a list of ingredients and we made a date. I arrived at her house, ingredients in hand, ready to learn my grandmother’s recipe.

Eleanor whipped up the batter and then showed me how to make the manicotti. After a few examples, she turned the pan over to me.

“Now you do it,” she said.

This is the part of my life where I feel panicky, because I immediately think of my dreams. Why you ask? Because in my dreams, disaster often ensues when someone says, “now you do it.” That’s because I’m dreaming of jumping from an airplane, hang gliding, changing hay into gold, or attempting to walk on water. The results are never very good. I had to catch my breath there and remember that this was real life, and despite what my husband and children say, I really can cook.

My first manicotti was a little too thick, but soon I was making manicotti like an old pro. We made about 32 of them and then Eleanor showed me how to stuff each one so it had the perfect amount of cheese.

“Now the sauce,” Eleanor said.

Usually I make my own sauce, but we agreed that bottled sauce would do the trick just fine. So we poured a little on the bottom of a tray, placed our manicottis in the pan, and then poured some sauce and parmesan cheese on top.

While we wrapped up the trays for transport back to my house, Eleanor and I shared stories about our relatives, and she told me what she was like when she was younger and how she met her husband Bob.

I was particularly glad to learn how to make manicotti because my own grandmother never taught me. When Nonni hit 70, she proclaimed to the world that she was “retired,” and refused to cook for anyone. So it was a gift to have Ellie teach me how to make my grandmother’s recipe and share all her stories with me.

Unfortunately, Ellie wouldn’t agree to come cook for me on a permanent basis. But I did get 2 nights’ worth of dinners out of it! Bonus.

2. Hire a personal trainer.

After learning that personal trainers cost a lot of money and do helpful things like scream “DO YOU WANT IT? DO YOU REALLY WANT IT?” at you while you strain to lift 50 pounds over your head, I decided maybe a personal trainer was not the way to go.

Can you really bend like that?

Besides, thanks to many years of tumbling down stairs, crashing my bike, getting kicked in gym class and falling off the monkey bars, I got to meet a different kind of PT: the Physical Therapist, or what I like to call the Personal Torturer.

The PT would encourage me to turn in directions that are now physically impossible for me, and when I lay crying on the table, he would say helpful things like:

“Are you hurt?”

“Are you having trouble?”

“Tell me what hurts?”

“Can you breathe?”

I would respond:

“Yes, I am hurt.”

“Yes, I am having trouble.”

“Everything hurts, that’s why I’m here.”

“The shooting pains where you keep touching me make breathing impossible.”

There were times I think I would have been happier to see the Grim Reaper with his scythe then I was to see my PT with his bungee cord.

When I finally graduated from PT, I joined a local gym and got a real Personal Trainer. On day one, he had me do a stretch that he thought would be perfect for me.

“This will really help open your back!” he said.

The next things he said were:

“Are you hurt? Are you having trouble? Tell me what hurts? Can you breathe?”

I see great things in my fitness future. That is, if I survive.

3. Start my own talk show.

Math tool & potential weapon

This one never got off the ground, although I did have big plans for it. I wanted to interview Sister Felicity and ask her some tough questions like:

“Why did you put that boy upside down in the trash can just because he threw away the donut you gave him?”

“Do you really believe that hitting me with a yard stick helped me learn pre-Algebra?”

“Did you learn how to lift small unsuspecting children by the neck from Darth Vader?”

Unfortunately, Sister F. has sworn off television. It seems she tried out for American Horror Story but lost out to Jessica Lange. The producers said Sister Felicity was just too scary for the part.

Now that my hopes to land Sister Felicity are dashed, I thought I’d try to get someone else who just might be desperate enough to say yes. After watching two long nights of his interview with Oprah Winfrey, I’m thinking that maybe Lance Armstrong would agree to answer some of my hard-hitting questions.

I think Oprah expended a lot of energy trying to get Lance to realize how upset he was to have lied and cheated, while also destroying the lives of everyone who came along and said, “but wait, he is lying and cheating.”

Um, Ms. Winfrey…I don’t think he’s sorry for what he did. I think he’s sorry he got caught. He seemed mildly amused by the stories of all the people who he sued, drove out of cycling, and bankrupted, as if his only regret is that he can’t hang up a framed jersey to commemorate it.

These are the questions I would ask:

“You mean you beat cancer and you still filled your body up with that junk?”

“What do you regret more, that photo of your 7 Tour de France jerseys that you tweeted to the world to show your defiance to the people who ultimately stripped you of all 7 wins and banned you from the sport for life, or that video clip of you saying, ‘I’m sorry some people just can’t believe that dreams come true.’ “

“Be honest. You did call Betsy Andreau fat, didn’t you?”

Lance says he’s most upset that he can’t participate in any sanctioned sports, but I think I have the perfect solution for him. If you read my post Super Juiced, you’ll know that I would like to have a special, all-drugs, all-the-time Olympics. I think instead of a flaming torch, they could carry giant syringes. Lance could be the standard bearer.

4. I’m going to bring lots of great reading with me.

My brother Chris was disappointed that I mentioned lots of great books I got for Christmas in my last post, The Next Big Thing, but forgot to mention the one that he gave me. But don’t worry! Now that the world didn’t end, I intend to read that GK Chesterton book.

I also intend to start poring over my favorite intellectual magazines, including this one.

Really makes you think

5. I will try to complete my own book.

I have been working on this book for so long, I’m thinking of asking to have Chapter 1 engraved on my headstone.  I will have to change this bucket list item to: I will publish my book. I may never get on any bestseller lists, but so what.

6. I’m going to brush up on my “how to survive under impossible odds” movies to get some tips.

I never did watch The Terminator or Cape Fear because I don’t really enjoy watching people kill one another. That’s sort of why I didn’t enjoy visiting the Physical Therapist. I did get to watch Terminator 2: Judgment Day last weekend when I was at the gym. I only watched the first 25 minutes, so all I saw was Arnold searching for John Connor.

 I forgot how funny I thought that movie was, or that there was a time that I liked Arnold Schwarzenegger.  I probably enjoyed it because I only watched the first few scenes, and no one was dead yet. Plus that terminator/cop who is hunting them both down was just perfect for the part. I wonder if he ever worked again, in something other than his gag cameo in Wayne’s World.

7. I never did get a conference room full of people from my past so that I could tell them what I really thought of them.

I thought Liar, Liar was hilarious, but I also understand that life is not a Jim Carrey comedy. The people I have met over the years have better memories then elephants. No way am I going to line them up and yell things like: “You’re fat! You smell! You wear a toupee! And you’re a LOSER!”

So here’s what I really think….

Although I’m sure it would be fun (for me), people tend to get mad when you do those things. I’m not in Catholic School anymore.

8. I was going to rip off all those pillow tags that said, “DO NOT REMOVE THESE TAGS UNDER PENALTY OF LAW.”

BREAKING NEWS: all of my pillows are tag free. This was perhaps my greatest accomplishment.

9. I am going to team up with my friend Suzanne to create a trail blazing sitcom.

This has not happened yet. We are still working on the GED storyline. I think we should work in the idea of time travel too. Maybe my GED students can jump through the space and time continuum by climbing the gym rope to reach a new dimension. I never actually saw anyone climb to the top, so this seems like a plausible place for the wormhole to be.

10. I want to become a member of the Paparazzi.

For some reason that escapes me, Kristin Stewart would not take my calls or agree to an interview. She probably read this blog and decided that I didn’t have any credentials and/or I might just be scamming her.

Sort of like that Notre Dame football player, Te-O, or Jell-O, or whatever his name is. You know, the guy who thought he was in love with some person he never actually met (they only “talked” on line) and then he found out she died? Oh and then he found out that some other guy from Hawaii was scamming him and the great love of his life never really existed at all? And now he’s on all the talk shows (except mine?).

Sing it! Or not.

I might just have him on my talk show, along with Beyonce, who is dealing with the fall-out of possibly lip-synching the National Anthem!

My first question to both of them would be: WHO CARES?

Perhaps this is why no one returns my calls.

11. I want to create a time machine so I can meet famous people who touched my life.

In her comments on my Bucket List post, my friend Suzanne pointed out that following Jesus might get me in trouble. At first, I denied this, but after further contemplation (I like to contemplate by eating pizza rolls), I realized she was right.

I’m sure I would have infuriated the Pharisees and the Roman Centurions by making fun of them, told the little children that came to see Jesus to “pipe down” and “get lost,” and possibly offended Jesus by saying things like, “Oh so YOUR FRIEND LAZARUS gets to come back from the dead, but not my friends?”

Maybe Suzanne has a point.

In any event, I still would jump right on that time machine and audition for The Rockford Files. I don’t have to be the prostitute with the heart of gold. Pretty much any role would do, as long as I wasn’t Angel’s girlfriend, I was Jimbo’s girlfriend, I had a permanent recurring role, an actual home in Malibu near Johnny Carson and my own trailer with a refrigerator filled with pizza rolls.

I want to meet Jim and Rocky

That sounds reasonable to me.

12. I would start my own “little people’s” basketball league.

Again, my Little Person’s National Basketball Association (LPNBA) may not be up and running, but the dream just refuses to die. (For me, anyway). I haven’t exactly been inundated with offers from anyone under 5’4”.

Mostly, people who are my height say they’ll play for me, but only if they get to be the center. But I’m the center! What’s the point of starting the league if I can’t play center?

Some people have the craziest ideas.

Recipe:

Ellie’s Manicottis

This recipe goes back to the 1950′s.  My grandmother taught Eleanor and she shared it with her friends, and like the Herbal Essence commercial from the 1970s, they shared it with two friends, and so on and so on and so on.  It has been passed on to probably hundreds of people. In Franklin Square it was known as “Ellie’s Manicotti”.

Stuffing for shells:

Large ricotta (32 oz)

Medium mozzarella

3 eggs

Grated Parmesan Cheese (add as much as you like)

Sauce (home made or jar; your choice)

Salt and Pepper to taste

To make the shells:

1 egg

1/3-cup water

1/3-cup flour

Place shell ingredients in the blender until the flour is absorbed and let it sit until the froth disappears.

Use a paper napkin to coat your frying pan with oil.  In the old days, my grandmother insisted you use a cast iron pan; Ellie now uses Teflon.

Pour just enough batter into the hot pan so that the bottom is covered; you don’t want to put in too much or your manicotti will be too thick. When the manicotti is formed, flip it over. Slide it out and repeat the process until your batter is gone.

After they have cooled, stuff them with your filling. Roll them up. Place some sauce on the bottom of the tray, lay your manicotti over it, and then cover with remaining sauce. Sprinkle Parmesan Cheese on top.

Place tray in 425-degree oven and bake for about 15-20 minutes, until the cheese is bubbly.

Enjoy!

So, Hungry Lifers…have you accomplished any of your Bucket List items lately? What would you say to Lance Armstrong if you had the chance? Where would you go if you could go back in time? Do you like pizza rolls and manicotti? Please leave a comment and let us all know. Thanks!

The Next Big Thing

By Maria Schulz

Last week, Darlene from http://5writers.com/ tagged me as part of a chain of authors called THE NEXT BIG THING.

Now, I am the kind of person who hates chain mail of any kind, but this was different. I was so amazed that someone was actually interested in what makes me tick as a writer that I decided to join the chain. Aren’t you all thrilled?  I’m supposed to provide some insight into my current projects. I added some questions because I just can’t leave well enough alone.

Once I’m done, I will pass on some info about other writers whose work I enjoy. I hope you’ll check out my tagged writers and maybe they’ll even share their thoughts too.

I like to think of this as my Frost/Nixon moment, except I don’t like the idea of being Richard Nixon. So consider this my Barbara Walters/Mariah Carey moment. There, that’s better.

So, here’s what I’ve been up to.

What is the working title of your project?

Eat Everything! Tales from a Hungry Life: A Memoir with Recipes

What genre does your project fall under?

Memoir with touches of humor and recipes. Not sure where they will shelve it. I think you will probably find it in either the cookbook section, the memoir section, or on the remainder table.

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your project?

Large, insane family gets into lots of amusing scrapes, makes people laugh, eats a lot, and wants you to come along.

Will you self-publish or be represented by an agent? I will probably self-publish, unless an agent comes along and changes my mind.

If you found yourself in an elevator with a movie director you admire and had the chance to pitch your project to him, what would you say?

My grandmother’s blind sister once accidentally kissed a priest, and then laughed so hard she peed on the altar. And she was the quiet one.

Where did the idea come from for the story?

My mother lost her memory through Alzheimer’s disease. I wanted to remember our life together, and so I started writing my book.

Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?

Oh I love casting calls! I have done this several times on this blog.

Dad: Robert Loggia

Mom: Terri Garr

Jude: Steve Buscemi

Tony: Matthew Broderick

Louie: Robert Deniro

Paul: Robert Downey Jr.

Joe: Vince Vaughn

Chris: John Cusack

Maria: Angelina Jolie (hey! It’s my movie)

Nonnie: Olivia Dukakis

Uncle Don: George Hamilton

I hope the producers have a lot of cash!

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript?

The first draft took me a year—8 years ago. I feel like I’m now on the 115^th draft.

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre?

Well, I was inspired to write it because of The Glass House by Jeannette Walls. The difference is that my parents were actually not as crazy as hers, and I can’t believe I’m saying that.

When I started writing this book, I read every memoir I could lay my hands on. Running with Scissors was a story that was light years away from my own experience with my family, but I enjoyed the way the author told his story with honesty and humor.

Last year, I read The Garner Files (James Garner’s memoir), This Time Together (Carol Burnett’s memoir) and Rob Lowe’s memoir, Stories I Only Tell My Friends. My husband just bought me The Liar’s Club, another memoir I can’t wait to read.

What else about your story might pique the reader’s interest?

A fashion staple! NOT

It’s a coming of age story. Six boys, one girl, two slightly eccentric parents, insane extended family, in-laws, dogs, a rock-n-roll band, friends, Catholic school, nuns, teachers, growing up in the 70s and 80s. Lots of laughs. Plus there’s all that food! What’s not to like?

What other kinds of writing do you like to do?

I love short stories and novellas. I want to spend this year trying my hand at a full-length novel. I also love writing poetry and of course blog posts.

What books are you reading right now?

I’m reading The War of Art by Stephen Pressfield. My nephew gave it to me for Christmas and I’m really enjoying it. It talks about fighting resistance and approaching your craft—whether it’s writing, painting, or being an entrepreneur—like a pro.

I also just started The Story of Beautiful Girl by Rachel Simon and so far, so good. My book club is reading The Language of Flowers by Vanessa Diffenbaugh and I can’t wait to start it too.

Every time I read a new book, it makes me want to write. And that’s a good thing.

Check out what these fellow writers are up to:

Lisa Safran is the kind of writer who will help you become a better writer, and approach your craft in a whole new way. She’s also a very talented middle school author who is currently shopping around a new book. Check out her latest blog at http://www.safrancreative.com/blog/2012/12/26/putting-your-two-cents-in.html

BGLou will get you thinking about life, love, the past, the future, music, politics, his life on “the hill” and more. Check out his blog at: http://bglou.blogspot.com

Joe Tura chose the name of his blog from one of my favorite movies ever: The Great Escape (And who stars in the G.E.? James Garner, of course). Discover his take on favorite movies, directors, Godzilla and more at: http://turafish.wordpress.com

Recipe:

Italian Skewers. Yum!

One of the requirements for meeting with Barbara Walters would be a large paycheck and an equally large supply of delicious appetizers, because interviews make me hungry! I found a link at Southern Living that included 40 appetizer recipes, including Curried Chicken Tea Sandwiches, Caramelized Onion and Goat Cheese Bread, and Stuffed Mushrooms with Pecans.

http://www.southernliving.com/food/entertaining/appetizer-recipes-00400000052549/page43.html

So Hungry Lifers…if you could ask me a question about my blogs or my book, what would it be? What kind of writing do you enjoy? Which recipe is your favorite? Let us all know by leaving a comment. Thanks, and Happy New Year!