Tag Archives: Miami

Feliz Thanksgiving!

sorry-hungryThe first Thanksgiving I was with my now ex-husband we were invited to his aunt and uncle’s house for dinner. Growing up in South Florida, I had heard the phrase Cuban time a lot, but I never really got it. Basically, the theory is that Cuban people are usually late. So, I should have known to have a snack or lunch before going to their house, but I didn’t. Since it was Thanksgiving, I assumed we would eat early, like at dunch or linner time. I didn’t truly understand Cuban time until that Thanksgiving in 1992.

Ask any of my family or close friends and they will tell you epic tales of my hanger. I don’t do meal skipping well. I’m pretty sure that I could become a mafia henchman if I just skipped a meal or two. Breaking legs would be therapeutic with my level of hanger. So, it was a huge mistake to skip lunch. Huge.

Want to read more about my HANGRY, bilingual Thanksgiving? Come on over to Knot So Subtle. 

My Brother and George Clooney

Yes, this is a George Clooney doll.
Yes, this is a George Clooney doll.

Of all of the messed up things that my biological father did, and there were many, I would say NOT keeping in touch with Nick Clooney irritates me the most.  Way back in the day, before I was born (No, dinosaurs were NOT roaming!), my father, Gary Petty, produced Nick Clooney’s talk show in Cincinnati, in the late 60’s.  You may recognize the last name as also belonging to George, who appears in the title.  That is because Nick is George’s father.  So, people, long story short, my older brother used to play with George Clooney.

When I say that my brother played with George Clooney, I mean the actual person, not some whackadoo doll that is supposed to look like him.  Did you know that a George Clooney doll actually exists?  I didn’t until today when I Googled it, and honestly, I’m horrified. Who would buy this thing?  Some weird, introverted middle-aged woman who talks to cats all day?  Hey, don’t judge!

Anyway, yes, my brother and George Clooney used to run around outside and play various little boy games.  Both were about 7 or 8 at the time, and this was in the late 60’s. So, there were no video games or a multitude of TV shows.  They went outside.  And this is where our real story begins.

Disclaimer:  I do not have evidence of the following being true. I have my mother’s word, and that is good enough for me.  My brother has verified that he did play with George Clooney, but will not confirm or deny what occurred. My stepmother claims to have seen a photo of my father with young George sitting on his lap.  No one knows where said photo is, and my father passed away 25 years ago. So, he’s no help either. The following story is what keeps me from thinking that George Clooney is hot.

OK. One time when my brother and George were playing, my brother came running in to the apartment with the young Clooney, yelling for our mom.  Well, since I was not born yet, I guess she was just his mom.  Anyway, he was yelling, “Mom!”  So my mother went running to him.  There stood the future “sexiest man in America” with what my mom describes as a “used Kotex” on his forehead.  She of course asked my brother what the heck little George was doing with THAT on his forehead.  Knowing my mom, she probably used a lot more than “heck” in this situation. My brother enlightened her.  “WE WERE PLAYING COWBOYS AND INDIANS!! AND WE FOUND BANDAGES WITH REAL BLOOD ON THEM!!”

You’re welcome.  Now, you too won’t be able to see George Clooney without picturing THAT on his forehead.  And that, my friends, is why video games might not be so bad after all.

My father and Sally Jessy Raphael in Miami, early in her career.
My father and Sally Jessy Raphael in Miami, early in her career. I still can’t find that Clooney picture.

Silent Battles with Cat Hater Woman

I went to a party last Saturday night.  No, this is not the beginning of a Lita Ford song.  I actually went to a party on Saturday night.  It was a lovely birthday party for a woman who is as nice as she is beautiful and smart.  You know; one of those people you can’t even hate for being gorgeous.  Anyway, the food was great, the drinks were interesting, and the people were nice.  Well, MOST of the people were nice.  Yes, I’m talking about you cat hater woman.

I really liked cat hater woman at first, before I knew of her feline issues, even though she “demanded” a show when she found out I used to do stand-up.  I hate when people do that.  I QUIT doing comedy seven years ago.  Demand all you want.  It ain’t happening.  Once, she accepted that, she was great to talk to.  She has two teenagers, and I have one.  So, we had that in common.  I didn’t quite catch her name because it was noisy and I have the hearing of an eighty year-old.  I thought it was a feminine version of a popular male name, but my husband informed me that it’s actually the name of a liquor that rhymes with that.  Either way, it’s a stripper name, but I wasn’t thinking that yet.  I still liked her.

I didn’t even say anything when she stood there, in a somewhat thin, linen, halter jump suit (think Miami disco club circa 1977) and complained of being cold.  I was thinking, “Do you not have the Weather Channel, or local channels, or a door, or windows that you could consult before getting dressed?”  But, believe it or not, I held back.  Kept my mouth zipped.  We were having a great talk about kids and their horrible boyfriends and girlfriends.  We were mom bonding.

I don’t know how the subject of cats came up.   We were probably talking about my new Black Lab/Great Dane 50-pound puppy when I professed my love for cats.  Knowing my irritation with the moose dog, this is probably how it happened.  She replied with, “I hate cats.”

This always throws me when people say this, but I’m used to it.  Most people I have met love dogs.  A lot folks have this false belief that cats are not friendly.  I WISH my three cats were a little less friendly. This belief is why so many cats are in shelters, and are euthanized.  Though I have heard many people talk about not liking cats, I had never really asked someone WHY the hatred.  So, I asked liquor name stripper girl, “Why?”

I was expecting a real answer about a horrific childhood experience about how she lost a beloved pet hamster to the hungry jaws of an alley cat.   I got, “I don’t know. I just really hate them.  I would run one over if I could.”

I had to hold my breath not to physically reach out and either grab her by the top of her halter jumpsuit or choke her, or both.  There were so many things I wanted to say to her, like:

  • Are you aware that the host and hostess of this party have two cats that they love dearly?
  • Did you know that if I ever became a millionaire one of the first things I would do is build a GIANT indoor cat sanctuary and save as many cats as I could for the rest of my life?
  • RUN ONE OVER???  What the hell is wrong with you?
  • How can you hate an entire species?  Are you one of those idiots who think all Muslims are going to blow up a building?
  • You have a stripper’s name.
  • Put on a sweater if you are cold.  Your shoulders aren’t all that.
  • RUN ONE OVER??? Do you know who you are talking to?

I didn’t say any of that.  I said nothing.  I channeled the Dalai Lama somehow.  It wasn’t my party and I wasn’t going to ruin it.  I think she picked up on the fact that we disagreed on creating feline road kill and she excused herself because her husband was flirting with some young “short skirts.”   I wonder why.