This is true.

Some mornings, I see this woman on the train. She looks like she could be the sister of Al from Happy Days. Hangdog, I believe, is what you call that look. She takes great care with her bangs. She pulls them lovingly straight down from the rest of her brown, curly head. I have imagined her in front of the mirror more than once avec flat iron, giant brush, hair drier, hot rollers - whatever it takes. She looks sad, defeated. She looks like someone drew a frownie face on a canned ham. I fear her. I fear waking up one morning and seeing that expression looking back at me. This is true.

Three Cities

Los Angeles

London

New York

Go Go Go!

Go Go Gertie was my favorite character in the deck of Old Maid cards we had at my preschool. She wore a mini skirt, groovy boots, giant earrings, and, best of all, she was dancing. She was snapping her fingers. Her eyes were closed in bliss. Her hair swung to one side and her necklace whipped over to the other. She was so on fire that the artist had to make motion lines to convey that energy. You could just hear the music that played just for her. A psychedelic guitar, no doubt. All action, that girl. All action.

I would play Old Maid not to win or lose, but to collect the pair of Go Go Gertie cards. If I got the Go Go Gertie pair, I knew it was because of it was the way it should be. Me plus two matching cards of that sassy lassie meant all was right in the world.

But if some other preschooler got Gertie, I would stare intently at the pair of cards on their side of the table and wonder why this was happening me. What had I done to upset Gertie? Why had she forsaken me? Not only that, I'd sort of wait for the cards to reveal the answer. We were apart and that good time go go dancer had a lot of explaining to do! Didn't she understand that we were one?

Alas, she was always mute as a paper bag which meant only one thing: I would have to play another hand to make things right in the universe. And lest you forget, Old Maid is NOT a particularly fast game. It's not as tedious as the board game Risk or as drawn out as cooking a chicken in a crock pot, but for a four year old, it's pretty slow.

As you have probably already figured out, I wanted to be Go Go Gertie - to fill those boots, swing that necklace, shake that thang. In many ways, I have succeeded. Perhaps now is a good time to move on.