Elisa Goodman, Author at Curmudgeon Cards

The Loss of Another Hollywood Legend

Elisa Goodman — Wed, 01 Sep 2021 00:22:54 +0000

THE LOSS of ANOTHER HOLLYWOOD LEGEND
By Elisa R. Goodman
8/31/21

News spread like a California wildfire this past Sunday when another beloved Hollywood icon left our planet – the lovable (but ever crusty),
ED ASNER.

ED ASNER, one of our favorite, quintessential television and feature film curmudgeons (famously playing ‘Lou Grant’ on “The Mary Tyler Moore Show” and the grumpy neighbor in the brilliant, animated feature, “UP”) had been a friend of my parents for many years, not only because their paths crossed during the Golden Age of Television, but through many Democratic fundraisers and events where “Card-Carrying members of the Hollywood Elite” would strike, petition and speak out for justice – a staple of the 70s, 80s, and 90s for many who didn’t think twice about stirring up “Good Trouble.”

My mom also represented him for speaking engagements on college and university campuses with her company, BG Speaker’s Bureau, which she co-owned with her best friend from Fairfax High School, Pauline Buck.

Several years ago, my mom and I decided to stop for a casual dinner at Mary and Robb’s, a tucked-away family-run coffee shop on Westwood Blvd near UCLA. It was June 28^th – which just happened to be my birthday.

After we ordered, I dashed to the bathroom to wash my hands – and on my way back to our table, I briefly noticed a man who looked slightly familiar – yet his face didn’t entirely register. When I sat down my back was to him – but I soon picked up a recognizable cadence from one of the two people who were in conversation behind me. I cocked an ear, got quiet amongst the errant white-noise chatter, and – because my mom was hard of hearing – scribbled a note to her on a napkin: “I think Ed Asner is sitting behind us. You have to get up and say hello.”

She said, “Oh, no, he wouldn’t remember me.” I insisted – partly because it was my birthday and I knew it would make a great story – and partly because I liked having her connect with people from her past as there seemed to be dwindling opportunities for her to do so.

Ed was having dinner with Samuel Warren Joseph, a writer who was co-authoring Ed’s autobiography, “Son of a Junkman.” I also wanted to connect with Ed because several years before I had written a funny memoir of sorts called, “Life’s Too Short to Spend with Assholes – A ‘Skewed’ Look into the ART of Daily Living.” In my book there is an illustrated character I named “Bruno” who is a curmudgeon. To this day, many people I meet do not know what a curmudgeon is – and always ask me why I named my greeting card company CURMUDGEON CARDS. And so, in this particular chapter where Bruno’s caption says, “A Curmudgeon Lives Here,” I explain the dictionary definition of a curmudgeon as “an irascible old man” (I have since redefined that personality trait as “lovable, but crusty”).

I also provided examples in the book of many famous people who are branded as curmudgeons. Ed Asner is listed in second position – right under Walter Matthau (of “The Odd Couple Movie” – for any of you reading this who are too young to know any famous curmudgeons).

Since I had a copy of the book in the car, I ran out of the restaurant to grab it. He loved the title and graciously accepted my heartfelt homage. He excitedly chatted with my mom (of course, he remembered her) and was actually flirting with her! He was about 88 at the time and my mom must have been 96 or 97. He said he always wanted to ask her out after my dad died in 1997 – but had too much respect for my dad, who was a well-known comedy writer. Ed’s flirtatious exchanges with my mother were the cutest thing, EVER!

I must have mentioned that it was my birthday because when we finished our meal, we found out that he had generously picked up our check!
It was a spontaneous, special, birthday encounter that I will always treasure.

So many of the people from my parents’ lives were legends and they were a special breed of humans – not to be encountered again.

Rest in peace, Ed. Your liberal pals, Carl Reiner, Hal & Natalie Goodman, will be waiting to greet you – probably with a hearty, “What the hell took YOU so long?”

The post The Loss of Another Hollywood Legend appeared first on Curmudgeon Cards.

The Loss of My Legend

Elisa Goodman — Tue, 01 Sep 2020 18:57:34 +0000

Last Friday, August 21, 2020, we saw the passing of another legend – my mom, Natalie Goodman – who, up until recently, was among the last few surviving historians of the Golden Age of Television. With the recent passing of Carl Reiner at the end of June – this leaves Mel Brooks as the Emeritus funny man from Your Show of Shows – the iconic television show starring Sid Caesar and Imogene Coca, which my mom worked on from 1950-1954.

My mother, who was then known as Natalie Chapman, worked for five years as the production secretary to the show’s producer, Max Liebman. There, she was in the presence of many iconic writers and performers – including: Mel Brooks, Carl Reiner, Joe Stein (Fiddler on the Roof), Mel Tolkein, Lucille Kallen, Woody Allen, Neil Simon, and Howard Morris, among others – most of whom, (with the exception of Woody Allen), would become lifelong friends. Carl Reiner introduced my parents to each other. My dad, Hal Goodman, had been one of the newly added writers on The Imogene Coca Show – but got fired after writing a comedic sketch about a cat who gets killed which displeased Imogene – as she had been a major animal lover – so he packed up his Royal manual typewriter and headed back to Los Angeles.

As the story was told to us over the years, Imogene had taken my mom to a psychic who said she would marry someone with the initials “HG” – so my mother put on her spunky and determined Mary Tyler Moore persona (yes, she was from Minneapolis, after all), while her friends packed up her N.Y. apartment as she headed West to pursue this handsome 40-year old bachelor – and took him off the market for good. My dad continued to have a successful career as a comedy writer in variety – notably working for Bob Hope, Carol Burnett, Jackie Gleason, Flip Wilson, and Frank Sinatra – before becoming one of the head monologue writers for The Tonight Show with Johnny Carson with his longtime writing partner, Larry Klein. My dad passed away in 1997, at the age of 82.

My mom, who was 99 1⁄2 when she died last week – had an amazingly long and colorful time on earth – one whose creative life was one filled with long devoted friendships, arts and travel, beauty and culture, family and lots of Italian food! She was a meticulous historian of resourcefulness – saving a treasure-trove of everything for posterity in a cool memorabilia kind-of-way – which I’ve found so useful to me now. There were resumes, letters of recommendations, pay-stubs, newspaper clippings, photographs, travel notes, programs from plays, music, and art galleries. I found a little black book of what the production staff was paid in the 1950s for their work – from choreographers, lighting technicians to background performers, etc. all in her very legible handwriting.

She kept detailed receipts for furniture and art she bought in the 1950s – as well as creating an inventory of our house’s entire contents for any future insurance claims in longhand on yellow legal pads – as well as typed lists, compiled and organized from her favorite Selectric typewriter.

She saved the beautiful Christmas ornaments from her childhood, reorganized the cedar closets where everything was folded nicely, and put away in those plastic zippered bags used for pillows and blankets – always accompanied by scented mothball protectors obtained by the Fuller Brush Rep – in those hard-plastic, turquoise hanging hives. She changed her linens every Friday and her 100% cotton sheets were sent out weekly to be cleaned and pressed – meticulously returned in brown paper packages tied up with string.

She kept blueprints for any remodeling job, wallpaper and fabric swatches, jars of nails, screws, and tools. She kept the Irish Linen from her mother’s trousseau – which, come to think of it, I believe there’s still a price tag on it and it’s clearly over 100 years old! She kept lace and monogrammed handkerchiefs with her name or family initials, her mother’s wedding dress (that no one’s current waistline would ever be small enough to fit into now), antique shawls and intricately beaded handbags that would make you salivate – and notes about who they belonged to. If they were valuable, they were duly noted by an exclamation point and an *asterisk! She still has pairs of gorgeous kid leather gloves embroidered with little flowers that were her grandmother’s, which would also make you wish you had a hand small enough to wear them.

Her drawers overflowed with evidence of her life and she didn’t want us to forget even a minute of it. There were multiple handwritten phone books upstairs and downstairs in her beautiful handwriting – stuffed to overflowing and held together by a rubber band – which included a resource for every possible need – window cleaning, wrought-iron gate repair, plumbers, painters, and roofers. There were no Post-Its or Evernote to hide your ripped-note scribbles at that time. The 4×6 photos of family and friends were always displayed throughout the house and in her bedroom – where she would rearrange them when her night-owl tendencies would arise. She cut out articles, saved birth and death certificates, old passports, letters, and fantastic sepia photographs from great and great-great-grandparents, uncles and aunts, genealogy paperwork on anyone she had knowledge of, obituaries of friends, war correspondence, and my dad’s army memorabilia – which is so interesting and valuable to sift through now. I think we even have the D-Day Newspaper from the end of WW11.

I found my grandfather’s apology letter to my grandmother after his indiscretion and his sincere effort to support and make himself available to my mother – even though he was banned from having communication with her until she was eighteen – as stipulated by my great grandparents. Sadly, my grandparent’s marriage fell apart for unknown reasons – and when he fell in love with a non-Jewish woman named Portia who became pregnant, that scandal rocked their Jewish community because of the mores of the

society back in 1924 – and put my grandmother in a sanitarium for a nervous breakdown that lasted the rest of her life. My mom, who was four at the time, was lovingly scooped up and raised by her aunts, uncles, and maternal grandparents. She grew up to be one of the most normal, unscarred people – who was able to stay open to life and love and who was able to emotionally thrive. The very elegant and articulate communication was a rare gem to discover at a time when men did not have to explain themselves or their behavior in the 1920s. I really had some insight into a man I never was able to know. She took me to Chicago to meet him when I was eight years old, but he was in the hospital dying of cancer at that time – but it was important to her that we meet each other. We stayed at my great uncle’s house and I only remember that their housekeeper, Bernice, made the best green beans I had ever tasted. Interesting to note that my grandfather Julian didn’t tell his children he was Jewish – and his children and grandchildren didn’t find out that fact until they were adults – due in no small part to my mother’s interest in connecting with her half-sister and half-brother and their children while updating their family tree. Surprise!!!

The little Lucite boxes in the breakfast room were jam-packed with handwritten recipe classics from lasagna to brisket, soups to casseroles, and Christmas cookies to pies – passed down over the years from her family. Detailed instructions on how to make piecrust from scratch using Crisco, ice-water, flour, and two furiously crossed knives was always available for anyone who didn’t opt to use frozen pre-made piecrusts, as she loved to bake pies. Sometimes apple, but always pumpkin at Thanksgiving. Her lasagna recipe kept me fed through my college years and was a crowd favorite at my many dorm parties. She was also famous for her guacamole.

She always made well-balanced lunches every day – consisting of a sandwich: meatloaf with lettuce and catsup, tuna fish (no mayo on the bread), sliced chicken with butter and lettuce on egg bread or peanut butter and mint-jelly sandwiches were among my personal favorites. There was also a representative from all of the food groups included in their own baggies: black olives, celery & carrots, potato chips, and a piece of fruit (apple/orange or banana). Often I would trade something for a cookie. I was a picky eater and she always indulged me when I would go to friend’s houses so she would bring me special food. I was not the child who was okay with eating Wonder Bread – I didn’t like the smell of mayonnaise, mustard, or grape jelly. And parmesan cheese on spaghetti was a big NO. I was the child who smelled food before I ate it. I ate grilled cheese sandwiches with the crusts cut off for breakfast, cinnamon toast and a scrambled egg and sometimes, toast with honey. I would go for months eating the same thing and then, one day – Poof! I didn’t want to eat that anymore and she would dutifully make me something else. I was a PITA. She always made fresh-squeezed orange juice every single day. She occasionally would let us eat Sugar Frosted Flakes or Fruit Loops, but not all the time. I could look forward to eating those cereals if I stayed overnight at my friend Lisa Jaffe’s house. Any situations where I couldn’t explain my odd food needs to my friend’s parents left me in tears.

When my friend Joanie Waldman broke her leg skateboarding, Joanie’s mother would sometimes bring her Swanson TV dinners to school for lunch, which I thought was cool – and I got my mom do the same. I didn’t have to break my leg – although many of my friends tried to do that by jumping off their beds – for the off-chance doing that would get them a legitimate reason to skip school.

She and my dad hosted many dinner parties and she was known for putting place cards down in front of each place setting, dictating who you should sit next to (even if you knew everyone at the table) or thought to make an introduction to someone knew. It made my husband Ken crazy. And, despite audible groans and protests, would white-out and re-xerox the Hagaddah for Passover every year to change out the speaking parts to include any new people who might be attending and to make sure everyone’s speaking assignment was parceled out evenly. Even you were a non-Jewish guest, you still had a part to read. This became a family joke and she ignored our yearly eye-rolls.

And, for the record, let it be noted that my mom, little trailblazer that she was, not only was an early adaptor of recycling but even wore MASKS when we were sick in the 1960s – little white-cotton masks and stood in our doorway to check on us, left food at the base of our bedroom door and stayed away from too much contact as she couldn’t afford to get sick with three kids in the house and a full-time job. Yes, my friends,

masks do save lives. As the Elton John song perfectly sums up, “I’m Still Standing.” I hope Elton doesn’t sue me for use of his words without legal clearance. LOL.

Occasionally, after my mom returned to work, I would wait outside my elementary school for her to pick me up. Notoriously late because she was ALWAYS on the phone for work – I was often left wondering if she remembered she was supposed to pick me up, as there were no cell phones back then or after-school daycare or teachers who had to wait with you until your parents or housekeeper picked you up. The schoolyard would be empty so I would just start to walk home – which was about a half-hour endeavor. She would usually find me at a halfway point and then I’d hop in the car. That was when kids could anticipate having a normal school and household upbringing without school shootings, lockdown traumas, and abductions. However, on hot summer days, she would pick us all up from our respective schools around 2:45pm and drive us to the Santa Monica Pier with a cooler packed with fresh, warm barbequed chicken made by Rosa, watermelon, and lemonade to eat under the boardwalks – schlepping over the hot sand for an early dinner. We loved those days. We had it good.

I should mention that it used to IRK my dad that she would take phone calls during dinner – as well as having the one phone line tied up with four girls living in the house – so he opted to have a second line installed in the living room for his business calls and we were NEVER allowed to use it – (310) 553-4836.

She saved the congratulatory baby notes people sent her when we were born – as well as the many cards they sent to each other on their respective birthdays and anniversaries, our cards to them, and Christmas Cards from friends. All were expertly rubber-banded, labeled, and shelved and she knew where everything was, even to the end of her life – unless, of course, I moved it and I didn’t remember where I put something which was, alas, becoming more frequent.

She noted conversations she would have with lawyers, financial planners, brokers, and repair people so she could refer back to them later if needed. The process of cleaning out her house started years ago when I realized I needed to know where financial things were – and started the arduous process of sifting and sorting through the ubiquitous boxes of EVERYTHING. I discovered my father’s canceled checks from the 1980s and both of my parent’s neat and meticulous style of “saving” paper started to overwhelm me. I’d come over to their house on a Sunday prepared to “have at it” – open a drawer crammed with unknown papers and close it – saying to myself, “Not today” – not having the bandwidth to tackle this archival paper trail that, once unleashed, would NEVER be completed in a few, random, Sunday afternoons. Of course, my mother wanted to see everything before I threw it out – and I had to give her useful things to occupy her while on my kamikaze feng-shui mission – like photographs, she could label and other trips through memory lane, which could keep her occupied for hours.

She did not have weekly hobbies like Ma Jong, poker, bridge, tennis, golf, or bowling and never learned to swim. In fact, in a questionnaire I found she answered that she was “too busy for hobbies.” She also didn’t like to exercise but liked to walk. Put her in New York and she could walk 50 blocks in no time and not break a sweat. She did try Yoga at 88 and kind of enjoyed it. She looked adorable in her yoga clothes and carrying her bright pink yoga mat. She never smoked but did enjoy good wine with a good meal and knew what to inquire about and order from a sophisticated wine list. We were told she went to a Bob Dylan concert with her best friend, Jan Levinson, and fessed up that she tried marijuana in the 1970s. She must have been influenced during her time working with Tommy Smothers because, honestly, I can’t imagine that. Seeing Bob Dylan or smoking pot. Not that she was a goody-two-shoes – it just didn’t seem either would have been of interest to her. She told us if we ever wanted to try pot she would score some and we could try it in the house. I know Tommy knew Cheech and Chong. At least your potential suppliers would be reliable. LOL. I was never into drugs and couldn’t inhale so smoking wasn’t a habit I had to learn to break.

She was extraordinarily ordinary – but, then again, she wasn’t ordinary at all. She was a feminist without being strident. She was feminine without being girly. She was not manipulating, toxic, or belittling. She didn’t have a temper and rarely got mad. She gave you space to be yourself. There was no Jewish guilt laid on your life choices. She was kind. She was happy. And her smile was One in a Million. And, as evidenced here, she never took a bad picture.

She showed up for her life like she showed up for yours. Curious to learn more, and always up for fun. And yes, she allowed our little parrot Hightop to hang out on her head! Her own personal Grandbird! She never left the house without an outfit that matched, red Chanel lipstick, a spare eyebrow pencil, Kleenex, and her silver earrings. NEVER. My sister Diane remembers that she would come downstairs in her bathrobe for breakfast already pre-made up with lipstick, earrings, a roller or two in her hair before she had her first cup of coffee. I put lipstick and eyebrow pencil on her before the mortuary came to get her. It just felt like the right thing to do. Going out in style. But I kept the silver earrings for myself. LOL.

My mother loved to travel, and as mentioned, keeping copious notes about everything from her many trips – guidebooks, museum brochures, tips on special things to do and/or see, great restaurants, the best car & driver service, and who were the special in-tourist guides. She also had to LOOK at the hotel room before she unpacked – in case the view wasn’t right or she didn’t like it. The experience, the ambiance truly mattered to her. And, as you might imagine, this used to annoy my dad because it usually wasn’t just one time. But EVERY time. And, at the end of a meal when the Maitre ‘d might inquire how a meal was enjoyed…she would often present her critique if the Scallops were tough or something else wasn’t right. She was the last one to finish her meal and might send food back if it wasn’t prepared “just so.” She didn’t deliver her dissatisfaction in a whiny, disparaging way to get her meal comped. Just an acute observation from a well-traveled diner.

She could spend hours in a museum – reading every description under every painting. Impressionism painters were her favorites. A great flea market, a Turkish Bizarre, a great garage/estate sale OR a shoe sale…Count Her In. She never left a museum without visiting the gift shop, buying a poster, or some souvenir from the exhibit. She loved all things Italian: food, purses, shoes, sweaters, scarves, and suits. She was classy without the pomp and circumstance and never exuded a “Look at Me” persona. My favorite time of year was going shopping for school clothes in August. I did pick up her love of shoes – Papagallo and Capezio were among my faves.

In 1954, she went to Europe for the first time with her friends, Yip and Edie Harburg. On the day she was in Paris, she made it a point to stop at the Museum where a traveling exhibition of Picasso paintings were on loan from Moscow’s Pushkin Museum. She was heartbroken to discover the museum was closed on that day and persuaded the guard to go into the gift shop and snag two of the exhibition posters. These posters were two of Picasso’s famous paintings from his Blue Period – The Harlequin and his Companion and the painting of Jamie Sabarte – The Glass of Beer. The exhibition was dated June 28, 1954. The posters hung in our dining room for many years and I have always loved them. My birthday is June 28, 1956, so they are very meaningful to me. Her love of art was obviously passed down to me, as Picasso and Modigliani remain two of our favorite painters. They are now gracing my walls and have stood the test of time and remain among my prized possessions.

My mother had an early marriage at 19 – and moved with her first husband, Miles Raskoff, to Berkeley, supporting them while he attended law school. After their 7-year marriage ended, she borrowed $300 from Paul Robeson (the singer/civil rights activist who was blacklisted as one of the Hollywood 10 whom she became friends with from her leftie brat-pack days) and moved to New York to start a new chapter in her life. Although she was not a “card-carrying member of the communist party” – she was a forward thinker who protested injustices and was always involved with politics. Paul, unfortunately, died before she could pay him back. When my husband Ken and I were at the Smithsonian Museum many years ago, we bought a postcard of Paul Robeson and wrote on the back: “Natalie, where’s my $300 dollars?” Love, Paul – and mailed it to her. As luck would have it, her foray into New York became a “Who’s Who” of Show Biz’ best and brightest.

Upon arriving in New York, she became Yip Harburg and Fred Saidy’s secretary working on Finian’s Rainbow from 1946-1948 – as well as subsequently working on Jollyanna (aka Flahooley) with Mitzi Gaynor in 1952 for the LA Civic Light Opera – which, sadly, flopped. Soon after, she landed her dream reading scripts for Arthur Miller – but it was Yip Harburg who urged her to take a production secretarial job on a new live television show format that was hiring – as it was the next new thing that had some potential employment stability – trying to convince her it could be years before Arthur Miller might write another Death of a Salesman. That J.O.B. she stepped into became a milestone pivot that would change the trajectory of her life and, of course, ours too.

From 1950-1954, she worked for the show’s producer, Max Liebman as his production assistant – coordinating all aspects of that 90-minute live television variety show – including music clearance, casting for sketches, and production numbers. From there, she worked on The Imogene Coca Show in N.Y. from 1954-55 as the assistant to the show’s director-producer, Perry Lafferty. When she relocated to Los Angeles to be with my dad, she was hired by CBS in 1955-56 to be a story analyst for Harry Ackerman. Already pregnant with me (they were not spring chickens!), my parents got married in November of 1955 to go legit and begin their family – which, by the standards at the time, were considered to be “old” to become parents.

In addition to myself and my sister Diane, who was born in 1960, we became a blended family when my dad’s sister Ruth (my aunt), died suddenly from an aneurysm at 37 while making dinner – leaving two young daughters, 10 and 7, to come live with us. My cousins, Susan and Lynn, became an integral part of our family and my mother handled all of it with ease and grace, as much as possible. Our house didn’t have enough bedrooms and my cousin Lynn went to a special boarding school in Santa Barbara, but came home during summers and Christmas. My cousin Susan, who I consider my older sister, lived with us full-time. My uncle Fred, who traveled a lot for work was not emotionally up to the task of raising two children alone – and, for reasons unknown, chose not to hire a governess to help raise them. My mom, and my aunt Ruth, had made a “sister-in-law pack” early on that if anything ever happened to either one of them, the other one would step up and co-parent. Because my mom’s own traumatic upbringing as an only child was strongly curated by her aunts, uncles, and grandparent’s who took great care of her, she knew the value of strong family support in a crisis and this caretaking responsibility was extremely important to her. It was an impossibly tragic situation that my mother, up until she died, still doubted her own parenting skills – because she did not have her own mother available to be a role model for her. Miraculously, somehow, we would all agree, she did an amazing job. My cousins Susan and Lynn currently live in Minneapolis where their own father had lots of extended family – and Susan’s two grown daughters, Sari & Elana, are my mom’s sole grandchildren, whom she loved watching grow up so much. My sister Diane and I only gave her grandchildren who were furry or who could fly. A parrot and a rabbit.

In the midst of this family tragedy, my mom re-entered show business as a full-time working mom – after she was asked if she wanted to come back and work on the reunion of Your Show of Shows Revisited in 1968. She was subsequently hired to work on The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour for CBS – a great job for lefty-liberals and hippies who were up for “making some good trouble.” The venerable cast included Pat Paulson (remember when he tried to run for President?), Leigh French, Sally Struthers, and Lily Tomlin, Glen Campbell and Jennifer Warne. She became Tommy Smothers secretary for ten years (“Mom always liked You Best!” – and yes, we still have hundreds those buttons if you’d like one) and worked on The Return of the Smothers Brothers 90- minute special, The Smothers Brothers Show, Another Nice Mess & Get to Know Your Rabbit (Features), Fitz & Bones (Series), The Last, Last Show 90 minute Special for HBO, Play it Again Sam, the Broadway Tour of I Love My Wife and The Politician (Television Pilot). I would say that during that time she became a devoted, (some would say obsessive), fan of IBM Selectric Typewriters and white-out-strips, as she was always typing something – even if it was correcting our school papers so we could go to bed early to make them look better than they were.

I was once singled out in my high school advanced English class because she had Rumplestilskin-ed my paper called “Shangri-La” in the middle of the night and decided it would look better typed. My teacher, Miss E. Husband, was a spirited Butch lesbian who I’m quite sure was a nun in a former life – and whose middle initial “E” stood for ‘Elizabeth’. She read it to the class and showcased it as “a fine example of sophisticated, college-bound writing”. I received an ‘A’. After that traumatic “public paper outing,” I forever wondered if she suspected it was *doctored*. I did actually write the paper. I think my mom, given her background as an English major in Journalism, tried to clean up the typos, re-shape long sentences, and would tweak a word here and there. She did this for ALL of our papers for years. I’d like to go on the record to say this journalistic mothering style should not be judged by the same standards as having someone sit in and take your S.A.T.’s (I’m not mentioning any names, DJT). To this day, I endeavor to redeem myself by writing my own words as evidenced here – as my mom cannot help me now! My dad continued to use his portable Royal to type his scripts, two-finger style, on onion-skin paper.

Whenever reporters wanted to do retrospective pieces about the Golden Age of Television for magazines like Vanity Fair or N.Y. Times – Carl, Mel Brooks, and my mom were usually interviewed as reliable, sharp-minded historians of things like, “Did Mel Brooks really dangle Sid Caesar out of a window?” and other well-known antics from that famous writer’s room. Her long-term memory was extraordinary.

In the 1960s, aside from her television career, she became very involved with Another Mother for PEACE with founder, Barbara Avedon (co-creator of Cagney & Lacey) – which was an influential California anti-war organization during the Vietnam War era, along with her lifelong Fairfax high school friend, Pauline Buck. Another Mother for PEACE gathered high-profile celebrities like Carl Reiner, Donna Reed, Bess Myerson, and Debbie Reynolds – as well as Joanne Woodward & Paul Newman – who were also quite vocal about getting signatures against the Nuclear Test Ban Treaty. You may remember the famous Art logo designed by Lorraine Schnieder which read: “WAR is not Healthy for Children and Other Living Things.” Yes, we still have that necklace, too! I was often taken along to their volunteer headquarters on South Beverly Drive and Charleville above the long torn-down Wil Wrights famous Ice Cream Parlor (it may be a Starbucks now) and put to work stuffing envelopes or putting stamps on letters that needed to be mailed. Ah, memories of a postal scenario that safely delivered real mail. Lest I digress…

She and her BFF Pauline were also active in Women For, a women’s political action group founded in the early 1960s by a group of activists who would now be referred to as “nasty women” – as they had supported JFK’s presidential campaign. My mom was also quite involved with a local organization called The Teach Foundation – which raised money for the Belle Dubnoff’s School in Los Angeles – a progressive school for children who suffered from brain damage and had other special learning needs.

She was often the co-chair of a yearly fundraiser fashion show luncheon called Moms and Moppets – which was held at the Beverly Hilton Hotel. The event featured women celebrities and their daughters modeling mother/daughter fashions, as well as chairing other yearly-themed fundraisers. If memory serves me correctly, I do believe Cher & Chastity Bono and Debbie Reynolds & Carrie Fisher might have been among the charity mom’s and daughters who participated.

From 1978-1980, she worked as an account executive with Kathy Aaronson – a dynamo entrepreneur who started Careers for Women – which helped women re-entering the workforce redefine their earning potential selling ad space in magazines and local papers like The Pennysaver. She interviewed and counseled women seeking career changes, helped re-write resumes – helping to match perfect candidates for specialized job placements in Fortune 500 companies where women might not have been initially been considered as viable hires.

After that, she and Pauline opened up the West Coast offices of Ross Associates Speaker’s Bureau – a booking agency for women and men who wanted to be on the Lecture Circuit with their books and keynote speeches in colleges & universities around the country. Their placement focus was on the Arts, Politics, Business and in particular, Women of Achievement – whose conversations and awareness at that time was newly focused on family stress, aging, sexual health, and surviving breast cancer. They were business partners for fourteen years and friends for over sixty until Pauline passed away in 1999. Some of their speakers included: Dr. Susan Forward, Marlo Thomas, Betty Ford, Dr. Wayne Dyer, Dr. Georgina Witkin, Marjorie Hansen Shaevitz, Pat Allen, Mariette Hartley. Carrie Hamilton, Dr. Barbara DeAngelis, Shere Hite, Judith Viorst, Diana Nyad, Sheila Cluff, Ann Jillian, Dr. Sonya Friedman and Carlos Fuentes, Gloria Allred, Isabel Allende, Patty Duke, Shirley Chisholm, Coretta Scott King, and Billie Jean King, among an impressive host of others.

She was always full of energy and adventure. As a teenager, she told me how she climbed the stairs at the Ambassador Hotel to get Frank Sinatra’s Autograph. She also ran into Paul Newman at Tiffany’s and thanked him for his public outrage on the front page of the Los Angeles Times over our country’s role in the nuclear arms race over the Nuclear Test Ban Treaty. When he kissed her on the forehead before a stunned crowd of Tiffany’s Christmas Shoppers, heads turned! She loved to shop and quality was always better than buying in quantity – and she was meticulous about her garment bags with sweaters and decorative scarves, beautifully wrapped with tissue paper, resting in drawers with scented sachets. Receiving a new pair of cashmere-lined, size 6 1/2 gloves in Cognac or Hunter Green from Sak’s Fifth Avenue as a Christmas present was always a treat – as well as Saturday shopping outings at Sak’s, Magnin’s, Bullock’s, and Orbach’s.

During the years we were growing up, we did have fulltime help. Our housekeeper, Rosa Scott, became a second mother to us, as well as an integral part of our family while my mom worked. She was from Texas – and if you ever saw the movie, The Help, those black women who had those strong mothering bonds with the kids they took care of was right out of our family dynamics, too. Rosa had been working for one of my mom’s Aunt’s when she came into our lives in the early 1960s. My dad bought her a car so she could help my mom out more. She went to the market, took me to my piano lessons or my sister to the park, picked us up from school, or took us to a friend’s house for a play date. She made dinner every night for us which we usually ate around 6 pm because my mom typically came home from work after 7 pm. She came with us on our beach excursions, loved to sew, and made us beautiful clothes from McCall’s patterns and my grandmother’s ultra-heavy Black Singer sewing machine – Midi and Maxi skirts which I loved – as well as sewing our yearly Halloween costumes – one, in particular, was my ‘Cleopatra’ costume, complete with a black dyed wig, creatively repurposed from a kitchen mop). She helped us dye Easter eggs for our yearly Easter egg hunt, planted a vegetable garden in our backyard where our deceased hamsters were laid to rest and gave us wise counsel when we were upset. My sister Diane was especially close to her. Our den became her bedroom after Susan moved into the downstairs bedroom and she watched adult TV like “Burke’s Law” and “Peyton Place” and “American Bandstand” – often dancing to Chubby Checker’s “Let’s Twist Again.” My parents, who were non- smokers, requested she smoke outside the house as we all had allergies. She had a cute black poodle named Java which she often brought to work who was relegated to stay outside. On Fridays, her “husband” John came to pick her up. We weren’t sure if they were really married or just “shacking up.” My parents didn’t care. Not having children of her own, we were her “real” children and she was apart of our family for over twenty years.

My mom had a rebel side to her and was proud of her leftist-leanings – siding with her liberal/artistic/literary friends – some of whom were accused of being in the Communist party by HUAC. She protested Franco and his fascist regime in Spain – enhancing her love for all things Spanish – Picasso, Goya, Paella, Sangria, and Miro. When my parents took us to Europe, she always loved talking to the locals – finding out about a great restaurant, something off the beaten track. She brought banned items into Moscow in 1977 and met people in parks distributing buttons, vinyl records, jeans, and the like – feeling the injustice that Russian people had to pay more for luxury items so she brought her rebel-self to the people – while we were sure we were going to get caught and sent to Siberia – since my dad was a writer and had been detained at the Finnish/Lenningrad border for forgetting to declare the $300 U.S. dollars in cash he had hidden in his socks, which they discovered when he was searched. While the Tour Bus Driver was anxious to keep the tour on schedule, my mother insisted that the bus was not going to go anywhere without her husband. After an hour passed, he miraculously appeared. They ransacked his suitcase, opened up all of his toiletries and was strip-searched. Welcome to the U.S.S.R.

Other trips/cruises we were treated to included New England and Washington, D.C., New York, England, Greece, Denmark, Sweden, Norway, and Finland – but they also visited Israel, Italy, Francem and other places on trips with their friends. She and my dad would often go to London at Christmas on a Theatre Trip curated by Barbara Isenberg – a well-known Arts writer for the L.A. Times. After my dad died, she continued to go on trips with her single, widowed, girlfriends through travel programs at UCLA, visiting Berlin, Prague, and Cuba, among others. When she was 83, one of her oldest friends, Ellie Boris, was turning 80. Ellie had been living in Paris since the 1950’s – as she had met and married a Parisian and became an Ex-Pat. Ellie’s daughter decided to throw her mom a surprise 80th birthday – and all of her friends who had been her N.Y. roommates in the 1950s hopped on a plane to surprise her. I got go along as my mom’s chaperone. All of those people in their 80’s looked amazing as we traversed through Paris in a 4-day stroll down memory lane. Ellie was blown away by our surprise appearance.

She loved the theatre, classical music, and ballet – and always made sure we enjoyed those live experiences – taking us to The Hollywood Bowl and The Greek Theatre for summer picnics under the stars. She took me on several occasions to the American Ballet Theatre to see Mikhail Baryshnikov & Gelsey Kirkland perform, a concert in 1994 to see The Three Tenors at Dodger stadium (Luciano Pavarotti, Placido Domingo & Jose Carreras) – with their rendition of Puccini’s “Nessun Dorma” remaining my all-time favorite aria. She also LOVED Gustavo Dudamel – and I took her to see him conduct for her 90th birthday. I was at a Peruvian restaurant in Hollywood the following year where I spotted him having dinner with his family and friends – and, in an uncharacteristic way for me, went over to his table and interrupted his meal to tell him that she loved him so much – and her only wish for her 90th birthday was to see him perform. He took my hands in his and kissed them in appreciation of the compliment. I was so sorry she wasn’t at the restaurant with me at the time – it would have slightly rivaled the time she was kissed on the forehead by Paul Newman at Tiffany’s. I do not make a habit of going up to celebrities as a rule, but she would have done that if she had been there – so her spirit channeled me out of my comfort zone at that moment. And just in case you were wondering – NO, I did not ask him for his autograph on a napkin.

In 1978, she saved the insert out of a Music Center program she attended to hear Vladimir Horowitz. On a post-it, she wrote: “My favorite pianist – the Greatest!” She did introduce me, (via many vinyl recordings), to Emil Gilels and Arthur Rubinstein, who were equally, extraordinary. She LOVED the theatre and we went often in L.A., N.Y., London, Minneapolis, Chicago, Ashland or wherever we found ourselves – and up until Covid-19 shut everything down, she was still up to going to the Geffen, the Ahmanson/Mark Taper or the Annenberg on last minute-impulsive box-office runs to see if we could score mid-week tickets for something– even though she might not be able to hear a thing – even with special headsets. We also went to see several shows at the Antaeus Theatre Company in Glendale as I had several friends who were performing, happily tagging along, even if she couldn’t hear a thing. One of our outings last year included seeing Debra Jo Rupp’s brilliant performance in The Cake at the Geffen. We were seated early because she was in a walker and we ended up sitting in the middle next to Ashton Kutcher and Mila Kunis – who she struck up a conversation with. They were both very gracious to change seats with her several times – as tall patrons continued to sit in front of us and she could not see well. Of course, she had no idea who they were, but it made for a good story. We still had to change seats about five more times and it was truly a comedy of errors that they had to hold the opening of the curtain and ask other people to switch seats so she could be on an aisle. It’s a good thing Amy Levinson, the co-artistic director of the Geffen, was a longtime family friend.

My great grandmother loved the theatre and saved her pennies so she could introduce my mom to the theatre when she was eight. She sites seeing Clark Gable in Men in White at the El Capitan theatre on Hollywood Blvd as one of her early happy memories on their special, weekly, Saturday outings. This, she says, “seems to have made it inevitable that she would become a lifelong democrat and find her way into show business.” She also had an uncanny ability to go up to the Box Office five minutes before the show would start and get her seats upgraded to 5th-row center. In recent years, whenever she would say “I think I’m dying” – I would say, “Really? Today? Because we’ve got theatre tickets on Saturday for…________________ (fill in the show) – so if you really think you’re on your way out, please let me know so I can try to return them.” And then she would smile and that would snap her right out of it. Worked like a charm, every time.

On a questionnaire I found, she answered the following questions with surprising answers:

Under Professional Philosophy: “Belief that “I can do it!” and “Do it” 95% of the time. Belief in the work ethic – time effort, excellence pays off. I’m only satisfied when I know that I’ve given the project by best shot!”

Under “What Would You Like to do with Your Life in your Fantasy?” she answered: “My real fantasy has always been to produce an important play like Death of a Salesman on Broadway, and travel the world to see it produced in 21 languages.” *Of Note: In a 1983 letter I found addressed to Michael Brandman – who, at the time, was Vice President at Lorimar Productions. In it, she requested to take a meeting with him to discuss the possibility of working with him – as he had made it publically known, (probably through something she read in Daily Variety), his intention to produce legitimate plays and offer them for pay on cable television. She told him she “loved the theatre in all its aspects”, and “views the advent of cable as a way to broaden the audience for live theatre.” She goes on to say that “many people might get to see quality legitimate theatre presentations for the first time in their lives through cable and I would love to be a part of the group that is spreading this gospel!” Who knew she was so ahead of her time? She ends the letter with: “I am a terrific team worker, in case you remember! I look forward to seeing you again, and hopefully, sharing this adventure with you.” Her 2nd fantasy was to own a business and be her own boss – which is exactly what she ended up doing.

Under “What are you proudest of that you have done?” she answered: “Producing two great daughters. Achieving my fantasy…successfully launching a mid-life career change…Ross Associates Speakers Bureau…at a time when my peers are mostly playing golf, taking cruises, and playing with their grandchildren.”

Under “Special Interests” she put down: Graphic Art Collector, chamber music, anything Italian (cooking restaurants, traveling throughout Italy, fashions, furniture, history, researching exotic places to go). NAILED IT.

She also loved coming to my Art Shows – she was a welcome mascot at the Contemporary Crafts Market. She loved writing up orders, talking to customers and putting cards in bags. She loved seeing everyone’s creativity. She had accompanied me to Sedona, Asheville, and Seattle on several out of town adventures. She was a great traveling companion who never complained, even it was hot and I had to rush around.

I found her Thank You speech at her 90th Birthday celebration where she shared some memories. She acknowledged her grandparents, aunts, and uncles who raised her from the age of four. She says her extended family provided her with values, virtues, and strength to become “successfully engaged in the real world. “ Her grandfather Benjamin, who had been a self-made millionaire from Prussia, lost every cent he had in the great depression of 1929. Yet, she said, “he had hope, courage, and faith that FDR was the source for that recovery.” My great grandfather corresponded with FDR through his first year in 1936 – whipping up ideas such as the concept of social security – and the President always wrote back a 2 or 3 line signed correspondence (she says his signature was authenticated). I just picked up those saved correspondences which had been tucked away in a safety deposit box, so I feel safe to say that’s probably accurate.

She had a large circle of amazing friends and family and always made it a priority to keep connected – whether it was documenting the family tree or keeping the kids of her best friends comforted after their parents passed on. One of these kids is one of my oldest friends – Lisa Freiberger. Our mother’s met in the park when we were two years old. On my mom’s 90th birthday celebration we had people speak and tell stories. One of the letters read to my mom was from Lisa – who remembered that when she would come for sleepovers, my mom would come to tuck us in and I would always ask my mom, “What should I dream about tonight?” My mom always had something creative or poetic to come up with on the fly – creating elaborate scenarios that unfortunately I don’t remember. If I couldn’t settle on a good dream, I would imagine getting a new Barbie Doll outfit or a trip to FAO Schwartz’s toy store in Beverly Hills. Lisa also remembered my mom made very special coffee every day. My mom used a Chemex hourglass coffee vessel whereby she would scoop 6 teaspoons full of good coffee and then add cinnamon, cloves, and the zest of orange peel. People thought it exotic and that was way before there were flavored coffees you could get at Starbucks. Many people saw my mom as unflappable in her calming grace and graciousness and a bit of a unicorn. Honestly, she was so unusual and such an icon to everyone who knew her.

The secret to my mother’s longevity was that there was never any evidence of malice. She was never in a bad mood. It is important to say for the record that she never colored her hair, had plastic surgery, and had all her original teeth! Her skin barely had wrinkles and she never had massages or facials – all without regular exercise. She did have her hair done every Friday and mani/pedi’s and shopping were her form of self- care. She didn’t eat junk food but did love her Hershey bars, a good Root Beer Float, and Ice Cream. She remained curious, sharp, informed and well-read – enjoying the daily L.A. Times and the Sunday N.Y. Times. One of her last communications with me was last Wednesday night after listening to the Biden-Harris Democratic Convention. She was having difficulty speaking so I asked her to write down what she was trying to say. What she wanted to know was, “Did Biden Win?” Well, folks, we won’t have her vote or Carl Reiner’s – but if you loved my mom and Carl Reiner, we hope you’ll vote Blue and “Build Back Better.”

She loved supporting many groups trying to raise money for things: Close to her heart was the American Civil Liberties Union (A.C.L.U.), Planned Parenthood, Women For, Doctors Without Borders, PBS, SOVA, Jewish Family Services, among a host of others.

One of her dearest friends, Ellie Boris, (who I previously mentioned was her roommate in N.Y. ) had this to say for my mom’s 90th Birthday book: “When I think of you, one quality comes to mind…ELEGANT. For me, you have that elegance of quiet humor, a seeming calm in adversity, a gentle compassion for others – not to speak of your personal dress code. Yet, in every situation I’ve known you, I’ve admired you for being the lovely elegant lady you are.”

Her longevity secret? Be kind. Be curious. Be grateful. Never forget your lipstick, your eyebrow pencil, your earrings, and, of course, your kindness and your smile!

She really did have a Wonderful Life. *“And Clarence, I think somebody just got their wings.”

The post The Loss of My Legend appeared first on Curmudgeon Cards.

“Enter Laughing”….but Exiting with Sorrow by Elisa R. Goodman

Elisa Goodman — Thu, 02 Jul 2020 19:33:28 +0000

Today, we sadly learned about the passing of another iconic legend – the brilliant and funny, Carl Reiner – a staple in most of our lives for decades on the television and in movies including, “The Dick van Dyke Show” which he helped create – as well as dozens of others.

Although I didn’t know him as well personally, he had been a close friend of my parents. My mother, (then Natalie Chapman), worked on the legendary television program “Your Show of Shows” with Sid Caesar and Imogene Coca in the 1950’s – as the production secretary to the show’s producer, Max Liebman. There she was in the presence of those iconic writers and performers – Mel Brooks, Joe Stein (“Fiddler on the Roof”); Mel Tolkein, Lucille Kallen, Woody Allen, Neil Simon, and Howard Morris, among others. “Enter Laughing” was a play written by Joe Stein in 1963 about how Carl Reiner entered into show business – which was made into a movie in 1967, where Carl made his directorial debut.

In the early 1960s, my grandmother Anna, (my dad’s mom), used to babysit for Carl and Estelle’s youngest son, Lucas Reiner – the much younger sibling of Rob Reiner and his sister Annie. Carl’s wife Estelle used to sing and play the ukulele and liked to schedule short cabaret evenings of strumming and song at the Cinegrill, Luna Park & The Vine Street Bar and Grill in Los Angeles, where my parents would go to hear her perform. My mother kept in touch with him randomly and would go to his book signings, being gifted with several inscribed copies of his books, whenever they came out.

My late father, Hal Goodman, had also been a veteran comedy writer (although not a performer) and had passed away in 1997. We were so lucky that Carl agreed to officiate over my dad’s memorial, which was held at the Writer’s Guild Theatre in Beverly Hills. I think Carl had something to do with my parents meeting each other – a story he told at my dad’s memorial. Thankfully, we still have my dad’s memorial on tape – but it’s on VHS and I haven’t transferred it to a CD and my memory has faded in the last 23 years since that service.

Over the years, Carl generously presided over many celebrity memorials for close friends who had died – and he became the one you hoped would live long enough to either “Roast” you or be the “Keynote Speaker and Raconteur” at your memorial – where he would tell funny stories and keep you laughing – even though someone dear to you had passed on. While I have no idea of whether Victoria Zackheim knew Carl Reiner (but have to imagine she did) – I just came across a published anthology called: EXIT LAUGHING – How Humor Takes the Sting Out of Death – a book of collected stories she edited about humor and dying in 2012. When someone famous died, my father would say with a wry smile, “They’re calling in our class.”

In 2014, my mom and I went to Mount Sinai to attend the memorial of Sid Caesar and we were fully expecting Carl to be there. When we inquired about his absence, we heard he had been unwell. I immediately felt disappointed and thought to myself, “Oh, No. How can this be?” It felt like something was missing. A room where you couldn’t quite put your finger on why the air wasn’t crackling with anticipation that you were going to feel good, even if you felt sad. Sid’s memorial was still funny – but surprisingly, wasn’t taped for posterity. Because if it had, one would have been treated to a yarmulked Jon Voight – a tall, blonde Nordic movie star – who, aside from his iconic, dark and intense performances in “Midnight Cowboy” and “Coming Home” (and who regularly hosted the yearly Jewish Chabad Telethons), delivered some very humorous stories which surprised and delighted some of the more curmudgeonly Jewish comedians like Richard Lewis and Billy Crystal who were in reverenced attendance to pay tribute to Sid Caesar. These memorials are so important to hold because we learn so much about someone we thought we knew…but sometimes didn’t. Please videotape your loved one’s memorials – as you don’t want to miss and lose the moment where a hidden gem of a story is imparted and then lost to future generations.

I know we would attend a memorial for Carl – if there is going to be one. To not be able to honor Carl in a proper memorial gathering – complete with deli from Nate ‘n Al’s is painfully tragic. It is, in every sense of our world, NOT RIGHT! He needs to be feted and celebrated in the style to which he honored so many of his colleagues. Although his cause of death was reported not to be from the Coronavirus – this virus has taken away the right to honor and gather – and imagining a “Zoom” memorial for Carl feels like a grave betrayal. These kinds of Hollywood memorials are often packed to the pews, not-to-be-missed, SRO events. I do hope they will schedule a proper future memorial for him when the world opens back up. I just watched the incredible HBO documentary Carl starred in and produced called “If You’re Not in the Obit, Eat Breakfast!” – a must-watch for those who want to be uplifted and find out the secrets to longevity from some very savvy nonagenarians! (Those in their 90’s) https://www.hbo.com/documentaries/if-youre-not-in-the-obit-eat-breakfast. Some of these performers are among the last of the Comedic Rat Pack which thankfully still boasts Mel Brooks, Dick van Dyke, Betty White, Norman Lear, Ed Asner, Bob Newhart, Cloris Leachman, and Tony Bennett. And sadly this spring we lost the icons, Jerry Stiller and Kirk Douglas.

When reporters wanted to do retrospective pieces about the Golden Age of Television for magazines like Vanity Fair or the NY Times – Carl, Mel Brooks, and my mom were usually interviewed as reliable, still-living historians of things like, “Did Mel Brooks really dangle Sid Caesar out of a window?” and other well-known antics from that famous writer’s room. They were among some of the last credible historians of a time when the world felt safer. Just watching re-runs of “The Dick van Dyke Show” and “I Love Lucy” and anything else from that time brings so much comfort to my nervous system, especially during this time when the news is so bleak and scary.

In 1967, when I was eleven, CBS reunited the cast and crew of “Your Show of Shows” in a Reunion Special and my mom went to work on that event. That is how she resumed her work life after having kids – and then went on to work on The Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour and becoming Tom Smothers secretary for 10 years. As my mom continues to lose her dwindling circle of friends, she always wonders, will she be next? I’m afraid to invoke that old adage, “Time will tell.”

Rest in peace, Carl. Thank you for your comedic service to this country. Laughter at this time in history is one of the only things that is keeping this country from hanging out of the window from the 29th Floor and actually jumping. Thank God for Randy Rainbow.

You have kept us safe and sane for so many years – and for that, we humbly salute YOU.

And, in honor of your most important wish, we will get out there and ROCK that VOTE!

The post “Enter Laughing”….but Exiting with Sorrow by Elisa R. Goodman appeared first on Curmudgeon Cards.

E-VENTUAL HARMONY – Another Inconvenient Truth. A Pandemic Love Story

Elisa Goodman — Sun, 05 Apr 2020 19:10:45 +0000

E-VENTUAL HARMONY
Another Inconvenient Truth
A Pandemic Love Story

By Elisa R. Goodman
April 5, 2020

Last week I started to wonder what will eventually happen to the “single” culture of future dating – in the current landscape of social distancing. I was listening to a podcast last week where someone mentioned a book I had heard about but had forgotten – so I decided to download it from Audible.

CALLING in the ONE – Seven Weeks to Attract the Love of Your Life became a best-selling classic and love self-correction course by Katherine Woodward Thomas in 2004 – which has changed the game for many looking to “call in” their future soul-mates. I started listening but found I was not in the mood. I wasn’t feeling it. Was it apathy? Did I really want to meet someone? Was it just too much work? Sharing toilet paper supplies and precious resources? Like Elaine Benesch in “Seinfeld” – was that eventual someone really going to be “sponge-worthy?”

For those who do want to try Calling in the One, a grim question to ponder is: Will we be around in seven weeks to actually finish the course? Will we have become so isolated and contact-averse-germ-phobic freaks who will no longer be able to confidently resume hand-holding, kissing, food-sharing, bed and body fluid sharing – who will insist and demand Covid-19 test results be shared as a prerequisite to meeting for coffee – assuming coffee shops are still around? Forget STD testing. At least they have penicillin or something else if you were to contact one of those. STD’s may be an inconvenient consequence resulting in itchy or burning symptoms – but, hey…you’ve got this – no longer a biggie. I’ve never seen so many commercials for those who have contacted HIV and can use a once-daily pill to keep their symptoms basically under the radar. But the Covid-19 Virus…THIS is a real game-changer. These are personal high-stakes consideration. Life, Love and the pursuit of Safety. Will we turn into Gestapo Guards? “Let me see your papers!” Will people forge their results? Will your first date be on a Zoom conference? It’s a travesty that the beloved playwright, Terrence McNally, lost his life over this in the last week. He would have been able to put pen-to-paper to craft a new play to make sense of this. Love. Valor. Compassion: One Last Breath.

Conversely, if you lean towards positive thinking, you can creatively use this time to work on yourself – preparing yourself during this statewide mandatory isolation so you can emerge as a fresh and invigorated version of yourself – albeit shaggy and un-groomed for the foreseeable future. As always, it’s about your perspective.

So here’s a stab at crafting a new, futuristic dating profile for Calling in the One. Or create your own version of MAD LIBS. (Mastering Apocolypic Disorder. Liberated from Isolation and now Becoming Sexy).

Did you ever wonder what the “E” stood for in E-Harmony?

My guess the “E” will now stand for Emergency. Epidemic. E-pocalyptic. Ebola.

Maybe the “E” is for “E.T”. Emergency Testing for Eventual Harmony.

Sounds so futuristic. Just don’t give up. A Match is out there.

Potential Intro Bio:

Hi – I wanted to introduce myself in the age of social distancing. I’m a _______________(fill in the blank) who might be looking for someone to have fun with virtually – who enjoys having spiritual discussions about the meaning of a life well-lived – while being completely overwhelmed by what is happening in the world. Someone who sees the humor and absurdity in life – but can still find something positive in-between the daily disaster briefings and the global death counts which continue to rise.

Someone who understands that the world is having a spiritual crisis of meaning for a collective reason – in order for everyone to understand what needs to shift globally to heal the world.

Non-negotiable _______________(fill in the blanks): Someone who enjoys walks on the beach at sunset (whenever that will next be allowed), Iyengar yoga (who can figure out how to tune into a Zoom remote class while the yoga studios are closed), someone who doesn’t think Oprah and Deepak are too “WooWoo” and who, when given the option, enjoys Peet’s coffee over Starbucks. Someone who also enjoys being alone most of the time but pops out occasionally to be social. Someone who enjoys the quiet over the chaos – and has figured out how to make delicious desserts for vegan eaters. Not that I am one – but I would love to learn how to make yummy pies with avocados. Are you present to your gifts and the things that fill your soul which bring joy to other people?

Someone who enjoys _______________(fill in the blank): Randy Rainbow’s brilliant videos, Graham Norton, TCM, The Crown and Stephen Colbert – and is very concerned that Mitch McConnell is voted out in November and is unseated by Amy McGrath. Someone who is smart, kind, generous and funny.

On a side note, _______________(fill in the blank) – (but of utmost concern in a “don’t sweat the small stuff”- kind of way) – you will not be turned off by some of the things we are no longer able to keep up with (Including, but not limited to): haircuts, eyebrow, mustache and bikini waxing, mani/pedi’s, highlights and hair-coloring, facials, Botox, Pilates and gym workouts and other accepted social grooming which may be on-hold for a long while. These are extravagant expenses which we may no longer be able to afford unless the government subsidies continue to float in – or we will have to pick and choose those which feels most necessary for our self-esteem – which will obviously be a different priority for everyone. Just to reassure you, I always bathe and never leave the house without lipstick. _______________(fill in your preferences).

I’m not suggesting rushing back to an ‘au natural’ look in a Woodstock/ Birkenstock/Patchuli kind-of-way…just adjusting to taking less Selfies and Face-Time videos because we can’t stand how ragged we look while trying to adjust to the anxiety-induced, sleep-deprived new reality which kind of hampers making a charming first impression. The upside, (if there is one), is that maybe we will SEE each other as we really are – and when we are able to ramp it up, the façade we were anxious to return to may seem less important than our original, “virtual” connection.

Not sure if you care or not, _______________(admit your biggest concern). – but I have never colored my hair which seems to get grayer and longer every passing day. Most people love my hair as my grey is well distributed and has a cool look to it, along with my blue glasses which attract people’s attention without my having to do a thing. I can no longer get to my hairdresser for the foreseeable future as he’s 85 and I would feel horrible if I was responsible for his health and safety just to satisfy my vanity. As is evident, we all have to do our part and take one for the team. I’ll just get my nail and craft scissors out if I have to do some emergency bang snipping.

But come to think of it, you know, Rapunzel knew a thing or two about letting down her hair. Climbing up one’s balcony for a clandestine face-to-face meeting pressed against the sliding glass door might have a future appeal. Remember Dustin Hoffman in “The Graduate” banging on the glass door shouting, “Elaine…Elaine…!” as Katherine Ross is about to say her vows? Look how effective Max & Mel Brooks recent U-Tube video was when it went viral last week. “Keep your distance. Don’t be a spreader.”

Of course, I’d sincerely hope that if you choose to swipe left or swipe right – (depending on which is your dominant hand), you not do so without first applying a generous pump of Purell or any other hand sanitizer you have been lucky enough to procure. I forgot to mention _______________(space for omissions) that I’m not that into day drinking (or night drinking for that matter) – but Matcha Lattes and a good hot chocolate can keep me wound up for hours.

As for any future sexual chemistry, you do realize that we would not be able to touch each other’s faces, lips, eyes or hair for months. Close proximity is banned although I’m not sure about showering together because I think we supposed to change out of our clothes the minute we get home and take a hot shower to disinfect ourselves from the outside. Lathering up in latex gloves and singing two rounds of “Happy Birthday, Mr. President” in a sexy Marilyn Monroe voice (so we don’t touch our faces) sounds, well…a little kinky. Only the sound of your voice and the power of your thoughtful and provoking texts will be magical and love-stirring. I hope you are a word wizard. It’s actually sexy when men or women have a way with words and care about typos when wooing. _______________(insert your own fantasy concern).

I would also appreciate someone who has their trust, beneficiaries and advance care directive organized. Having a Pink POLST form filled out is so reassuring.

On a personal note, _______________(insert whatever extra personality traits would really be useful) someone who is organized and who can calm me down when I spin out (who also enjoys handling travel research, booking airline tickets and reading fine legal print) is a plus+. If you’ve been divorced, I hope you have a great relationship with your ex and/or your kids. That takes a ton of stress off the table and helps move into a healthier next emotional chapter for everyone. But what would really impress me is anyone who has mastered the art of folding a fitted sheet, Marie Kondo style _______________(whatever would impress you).

I hoping you are staying safe at home and keeping your imagination ignited. Looking forward to connecting at a future date when our country is not on lockdown and life support.

_____________________________________
Fill in Your Name here and contact info here.

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The ART of My Activism

Elisa Goodman — Fri, 21 Feb 2020 17:06:07 +0000

The title is a chapter from my latest book, AWESOME: Fierce, Feisty and Fabulous…Women Game-Changing the World – an anthology/memoir celebrating 119 women ages 4-99 – whose creativity, vision, sense of style, values, activism & chutzpa has done much for the world over the past 200 years to present day.

The idea for the book started to percolate about a year and a half ago when the tumbleweeds and unending turmoil of our current president were starting to froth and furiously boil in a dark caldron – while the Democrats were heard protesting: “Double, Double, Toil and Trouble” like the witches murmuring their prophecy from Shakespeare’s Macbeth. What to do? What to do?

I have always had my head in the sand when it came to politics – whether reading or listening to it. I always steered clear from conversations that I had no business contributing to – feeling out of my league with no evidence or knowledge to back up any opinion I might have had – or even knowing what the other person was referring to. I can’t exactly tell you why – other than the fact that it was a subject that bored me from the time I was in elementary school. I couldn’t have cared less. Civics and current events were laborious and exhausting. Quite frankly, I hated all of it. My parents, however, were quite savvy politically and spent a good portion of their lives discussing, rallying, signing petitions, going to fundraisers, being conscious and caring Democrats. My father was one of the head monologue writers for Johnny Carson for 17 years. I never watched the show and never really knew what my father was writing jokes about – Reagan, Nixon, Watergate, etc. I went to bed before it aired at 11:30pm.

In 2008, I had watched one of my best friends, Anita Finlay, write a book that spent four months as the #1 book on Women in Politics on Amazon. “Dirty Words on Clean Skin…a Hillary Supporter’s Rude Awakening” started to rouse my political awareness as Anita had been fiercely blogging and was way ahead of mainstream media’s national narrative belittling women and doing their fair share of not only Hillary-bashing – but doing their best to find fault and to push down women who were telling the truth and wanted to have a voice. Even the tiniest of creatures have muscles, I used to tell her. #@AnitaFinlay

In the last year and a half, I have also been following the very talented Randy Rainbow – an uber-talented performer who has, literally, taken the world by storm with his absolutely hilarious political parodies – whose sole aim is to showcase the absurdity of the White House personnel and our fearful leader’s presidential shenanigans – while making a name for himself as a very versatile singer and lyricist who can whip up a ditty in 24-hours whenever the latest WTF news can be re-worked into brilliant and snappy new lyrics borrowed from well-known Broadway musicals. He has taken his vignettes on the road across America to sold-out audiences, even snagging an Emmy nomination in 2019 for Outstanding Short Form in a Variety Series, sadly losing to James Corden (who I’m sure had won in this category before for his hilarious Car Karaoke). This is the ART of Randy’s ACTIVISM and he has also trademarked his very stable genius with some cute, Dame Edna-esque pink glasses. Bring on that SWAG, Gurl… #@randyrainbow

Randy and Stephen Colbert have made this crazy presidency of The Donald impossibly bearable by their insight, wit and channeled rage – so I decided that, at my current age of 63, I was no longer able to sit on the sidelines, stay uninformed, not have an opinion or not get somehow, involved. The stakes have risen so high, they teeter like the stock market highs on any given day – as we await the returns of his presidential actions on the verge of an insider stock-split. We need a new dividend and a return on our investment – our sanity, our planet, our climate, our future.

Enter my ART. I have been creating my illustrations for the past eleven years. I started illustrating because my now, late husband, Ken had lost the ability to SEE. I was looking for a way to make sense of Ken’s tragic situation. I found myself using the metaphor of SIGHT – using humor and heart to create a way to find the positive out of our “perceived” negative situations. I like to say, a little “Chicken Soup for the Soul,” a little spirituality from Oprah’s “Super Soul Sunday” – peppered with some Seinfeld, Snark.

I decided to “out” myself – come clean about my lack of involvement – and while I am not a marcher, protester, phone-bank caller or canvasser – I wanted to see how I might be able to contribute my thoughts in a positive and creative way – hence this book. I took eighty-five of my illustrations and thoughts about life and paired them with other women who I researched who had/have said something similar, took a bad situation and turned it around, broke barriers, created their own brand of Awesome, and/or brought an awareness to a problem they were unwilling to ignore any longer.

My book highlights many new people you may not be as aware of – as well as some heavy hitters – as I wanted the book to feel fresh and show that any form of activism can be what works best for YOU – there is no prescribed right or wrong formula or way to contribute your talents to the world. And just acknowledging that released much of the shame I had been carrying around for so long. Topics included are: Politics and Leadership, Self-Esteem, Ageism, Wellness & Beauty, #Me, Too, Climate Change, LGBTQ, Money and Equal Pay, Creativity and Self-Esteem, Gun Violence, Climate Change, Spirituality & Public Shaming.

It’s hilarious that my mom, (who is now, 99), still watches the news and reads the paper. When I come over to her house lately, I flip on CNN or MSNBC or the debates and I am the one explaining to her all of the Democratic hopeful candidates. I am actually able to carry on a conversation and give her the low-down on what is happening. I can’t tell you how upside-down that is for me. And I’m doing it with more ease now. I won’t talk to and debate people I know are “really in the know” – but I will listen with a newly trained ear – hoping to get a nugget or two I can then explore on my own.

For more information, about AWESOME: Fierce, Feisty and Fabulous…Women Game-Changing the world, please go to https://curmudgeoncards.com/product/awesome-fierce-feisty-fabulous-women-game-changing-the-world-book/

The book, along with the accompanying art, is currently available for purchase on my website, https://curmudgeoncards.com/ Thank you so much for your support!

Elisa Goodman

E: info@curmudgoncards.com

T: 323.839.0128

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The Ties that Bind You

Elisa Goodman — Thu, 21 Feb 2019 18:04:00 +0000

THE TIES that BIND YOU:
Do You have ONE FOOT IN and ONE FOOT OUT of Your Life?
by
Elisa R. Goodman
Jan. 5, 2019

It’s the beginning of the year and I’m doing a Mindset/Reset with Mel Robbins – a motivational speaker and author of “The 5-Second Rule.” She has generously gifted the Planet (to date, 240,000 people have signed up) with a free training to help you Reset your Mindset. I’m tracking my foray into Procrastination and Distraction – or is it a Rite of Passage? I’m someone who does everything at the last minute—and have been known for having a track record of deliberately waiting until the 9^th hour to decide/follow through on ANYTHING that has a deadline – especially when it comes to the handling of money/legal or other major “icks.”

It was a continual source of frustration for my husband (who did everything way ahead of its due date…including dying at young age of 58!). It made him crazy that I worked on my taxes the night before we went to the accountant – and watched me stress out about it – because it took longer than I thought and would keep me up well into the night – adding numbers and organizing boxes of receipts for our appointments. I insisted that if I did them a week before, (and, if our accountant would ask me anything about the numbers), I would not remember how I came to those totals. Which, whether justified or not, was totally true with that kind of information – as I cannot hold logical calculations in my mind. Only last minute will do. A hell of a habit to break – even armed with a laptop and an excel spreadsheet.

While I know actions (deliberate or not) are a choice – I am curious to examine my choice of physically incarnating into the world – with my umbilical cord wrapped around my neck and leaving me in fetal distress for 18 hours – requiring my mother to need a Cesarean delivery. Does this give me a legitimate “out” – a rope to hang myself with (literally & figuratively)? Does every decision have to be a “Do or Die”, “Will she? Won’t She? “Should I go for it?” “Should I stay safe?” Or let me ask a million people and get their take on it? What should I have for dinner?

Suspension rope thinking: After 62 years, this is starting to annoy me. I realize this is my default setting. This is one of things we are working on in Mel’s MINDSET/RESET Training. Do we just sit back and wait? Wait for something to happen? Wait for a sign saying it is safe to cross over? Wait for a sign to let me know this was the “right thing” to do? Wait for a sign that the effort I put into something will eventually pay off if I just keep showing up? Putting off a difficult conversation until I feel ready. Will spending the money for a big purchase (like a tradeshow) be worthwhile? How will I pay that bill? Will I transfer money at the 11^th hour from my overdraft account? Should I put more money into my account before I overdraft? Remembering to pay a bill before the cut-off time and forgetting that the cut-off time is not Pacific but might be East Coast or Central. On the stroke of 8 or 9…just getting the payment in under the wire. Pushing myself to create a solution. Knowing what I will ultimately do hours before there is a cut-off time. Unnecessarily torturing myself. In or Out. Time stamp it! 5-4-3-2-1! Just Friggin’ Do it!

Forcing myself to get up earlier, to plan my day the night before, to do the hard things first, to prioritize, to stay in bed or get to work, to do ONE MORE THING before I leave the office which always gets me arriving later than planned to take care of my elderly mom. Then there was the payback conditioning from my mom who did that when she was working. Picking me up late from school. Should I just start walking home by myself? What if she wasn’t coming? Should I wait at the schoolyard alone? If I start walking, will she find me? She used to come home late from the office before there were cell phones. Arriving around 8pm. Should we start dinner without her? This used to drive my dad crazy. Seriously, I beat myself up that there is something wrong with me. An umbilical-cord saboteur.

Using the umbilical cord as a metaphor for life – sliding down the rope of life like a fireman – whose emergency bell has rung – ready to board the fire truck to put out the fires in my own life. Like the vines in a dense jungle – we are to be wary of noises, of distractions, of things lurking in the corners – unaware they are watching and waiting to greet you with a mysterious, British sounding, “H-A-L-L-O!”

I’ve recently been introduced to the on-going study of Distraction Science – and how we are so bombarded by constant interruptions during the day while we are trying to concentrate and focus at work – so that it takes our brain so much longer to reset and refocus because of the dings/pings/rings of our phones, computers, robo-calls, spam marketing emails where everything feels like a 911 emergency that has to be looked at/dealt with in the moment. I have to remember to turn the sound down on my (2) computers when I go to bed so I don’t hear pings when an email or text or a Words with Friends play which shows up in the middle of the night. I leave my phone in another room when I’m sleeping and use a travel alarm if I have to get up so I’m not tempted to look at the time on my phone when I get up to go to the bathroom – so that the blue screen doesn’t wake my brain up when I need to go back to bed.

I’m trying to separate and examine the internal blame of my failed monkey-mind multi-tasking syndrome versus feeling there is something wrong with me for this In or Out state of mind. If I’d only been born a millennial – might I be able to handle the speed of my life? Is it my Umbilical Cord Syndrome at work again? When I can’t concentrate and feel overwhelmed to get-it-all-done – like dealing with the ubiquitous influx of spam messages on all of my devices that I can’t seem to delete en-mass – I stop and go back to a mindfulness awareness mindset. I get up and stretch to give myself a pattern-interrupt break.

I’ve learned to micro-focus 10-20 minutes shifts at a time on various projects. I have noticed that I am “in the zone” when I am creating and don’t have a distraction issue but when I’m dealing with the other side of my brain needing to complete paperwork and applications, legal stuff or manifesting money I don’t have in my bank account at the moment is when distraction is most prevalent. I shame myself to hunker down and completely finish an ‘icky’ project – seeing it through to its ragged completion – even though that could take hours and take me away from something else I also need to complete that has its own similar deadline. Nothing will ever be done, ever be completed – and that there is ALWAY more – more decisions, more distraction, more life stuff. The Race of Life – In or Out?

So armed with my new Distraction Factor Science findings – is my Am I In or Am I Out behavior. An imperfect wine pairing. The insane thing is – my pattern to wait and wait, knowing that I want to try, I want to jump in, I want to participate or I want to get it over with, I want to move past it – but I can’t just do it when it presents itself to me. I have to be in the Mood, I hem and haw, run Pros and Cons, mull things over to see if I’m being frivolous, if can I afford it (Suze Orman’s voice booms over the loud speaker in my mind), does it matter if I want to? To notice if it makes me feel expanded or contracted or should I just forget about it because it will take too much time, too much effort, too much money, too much focus, concentration, WHATEVER. Only on very rare occasions does a resounding “YES” show up – which I now follow-through on immediately with whatever opportunity energizes me without hesitation. This, in turn, begs the question: If I don’t have that energetic FLASH come over me to JUST FRIGGIN’ DO IT! – does that mean I should question it, pass it by, not jump in – is it my body giving me a warning sign? If I’m malaise about something – is that my father’s voice of “Why bother, that’s too hard – I’ll just give you money instead” voice showing up? Jesus Christ! No wonder I end up with a paralysis of the mind/action distraction.

This, thankfully, is why I practice Iyengar yoga. I could just lie in Svanasana for an hour. Watching all of my mental clutter pass through while lying supine on the floor – training my mind to rest and recede like the tides – all the while being aware of the default thoughts floating and wafting like clouds blown sideways by a small tailwind through a murky, yet hopeful sky.

I love when I can drop down, go deep, recede, keep centered – not letting the monkey mind chit-chat about stupid shit – I tell myself I am more evolved than that. I tell myself I am gifted, charming, intelligent, smart, resourceful, creative, loving, worthy, brave, inspiring and funny. I’m here to stay. I lasso myself back to the present with my umbilical cord swinging. I’ve decided I’m good to go. I’ve got this. No need to retreat. I’m safe in the world. It’s safe to explore, come out, be seen, be heard, be exposed, be vulnerable, BE ME. There are no limits to my exploration of self, psyche and courageousness. It’s time to cut the cord. The decision to be deliberate. Deciding to decide. Do or Die. Activating the Automatic Direct Deposit feature into my human experience. Spiritual prosperity. Defaulting to Deliberate creation of my life well led. A lesson in spiritual connection. A ‘cordless’ feature of our human experience.

So, in 2019, I am all in. Bring it on. Machete in hand. I’ve clearly decided to be here. I’m a problem solver. I have resources. I tried this a couple of weeks ago when I had the opportunity to prep early for an art show as I had a day in-between 2 events in the same location. I had driven down to Palm Springs for a Thursday night weekly street fair (6-10pm – set up at 4:30pm), which is 2 hours from my house. I was also participating in a show on Sat/Sun. near the same location. The weekend had a rain forecast for most of Sat. – so I took the opportunity to set up the 2nd show at 10am on Friday when it was clear & dry. It made me feel in control and took the stress out of my usual routine of getting up at 4am on the day of, driving 2+ hours to the location, doing a 90-minute setup and then being fully “on” from 10-4pm, hoping I wouldn’t mentally “crash” – despite the purchase of large lattes in my booth for reserve. I used the rest of the day to see “Mary Poppins,” get a massage, run to Kinkos to xerox more bus. cards as I forgot to order more from my printer before I left town. I did a little shopping at TJ Maxx, took myself lunch, went to Trader Shows to get proper food so I would have enough to eat while I was working. I also organized my stamp/art materials so that I could find something easily to make it up for a customer without appearing frantic and disorganized. (For those of you not familiar with my handmade greeting cards – they use postage stamps with many topics from around the world with recycled textiles) and I have 10,000 stamps with me – occasionally, some of them get re-routed, swept into an envelope and mixed together. When a customer asks me for something I know I have and can’t find it right away—it creates stress and removes a possibility of a sale. It was a breezy feeling to “think ahead” and feel empowered. I could see the value in adding more prep time, even if it meant going somewhere the day ahead. I don’t usually do that because I try to keep ancillary costs down and don’t like to pay for an extra night in a hotel on a trip that is under 3 hours. In this case, I had a free place to stay so it wasn’t an issue. But the result was that I was more rested, more present, more free to enjoy my event.

I translate my experiences into art and creative writing. I share my journey. I will help someone EXIT their distraction jungle. I will get shit done!

So take your rope, hold on to one end – give the other end to someone you meet who needs a connection, a tether, and give it a taut tug. Pull yourself up. If life feels cold – grab some leggings, a down jacket, some gloves and some hot cocoa. The vibrancy of your life will warm you. Take those gifts of yours and share one thing with someone new today. Pay it forward. That will help soothe your soul. The Cord Connection. Reset yourself. Whenever I find those negative default beliefs swimming across my mind like floaties – I will now say:

“Money shows up effortlessly in my life every day, in all ways. I have the ability to solve all ‘issues’ that come up easily and without stress and no longer need to handle them at the last minute. Feeling organized and asking for support allows me to function at a higher level and empowers me to do my best work and be of service. I say Thank You to my creativity and artistic outlet that flows through me with ease and grace and allows my mind the space and breath it needs to channel my illustrations and writing. I would not trade places with others – my life is perfect, enviable and I’m grateful for my own journey. Thank you for helping me illuminate the way forward.”

I’m OUT now. Are You IN?

Namaste.

Elisa

Elisa Goodman is the creative muse behind CURMUDGEON CARDS &
The I’m Skewed Collection: Witty Words. Quirky Art. Wise Wisdom –an unusual greeting card experience dedicated to enhancing lives through Creative Expression, Impactful Communication and Inspired Art. www.curmudgeoncards.com

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Reset Your Crazy Mind Chaos for 2019! by Elisa R. Goodman

Elisa Goodman — Fri, 04 Jan 2019 18:36:00 +0000

January 4, 2019

Prompted by the wonderful Mel Robbins’ – who is offering a Free Mindset/Reset training for the month of January — https://melrobbins.com/mindsetreset/ which you can join at any time. Nothing to sell, videos are also all over U-tube, IG & FB — if you want the video/training emails to come into your inbox each day, you would want to sign up with your name/email so you don’t have to search the web everyday to get the content.

In any case, I decided to create a ritual for myself to see if my self-esteem/financial mindset can be impacted and reset. I am shifting my thinking to empower and acknowledge myself for the things I like about myself, the little wins I have throughout the day, the way I think about decisions and how much joy/spontaneity I bring to my life on any given day.

Here are the questions I’ve created for myself to journal about. Feel free to modify them to suit your particular situation. In your journal, (or wherever you like to write), write down (3) answers to the following questions each day (can be done at night or in the morning).

1) What are (3) things you are grateful for in your life? The other day I wrote: My face, my humor and my bed.

2) What are (3) Kind/Loving truths you can acknowledge and say about yourself? The other day I wrote: I am a creative powerhouse, I make people laugh, I am thoughtful.

3) What are (3) things you did for someone else today without being asked to do? (that could be making a phone call to connect to just touch base and say ‘Hi’, problem solving, taking someone to lunch, picking up someone’s mail/doing an errand to make someone’s life easier (i.e. bringing the garbage cans back to the garage from the street), picking up beach trash on a beach walk, picking up towels or tidying up the bathroom at a coffee house you are visiting). In my case, the other day I put down that I helped my elderly mom take a shower and made her lunch, visited with a friend who had a tough year, sent an inspiring quote I found about Love to a friend, Star Ladin, who has launched a card deck line called, “What Would LOVE Do?”

4) What are (3) things you plan to do to move an important project forward? This is big as I have a number of projects I’m working on. (if, applicable) Clean out computer files, deal with a new Quickbooks changeover, follow-up on larger opportunities and ideas about where next to move my business, learn an animation program so I can animate my characters and put them into a cartoon show.

5) What are (3) things you have been wanting to take care of today that have been hanging on to your to-do list? (i.e. sending a thank you note, clean out a drawer, make a doctor’s appt., etc.)

6) What are (3) ways you can empower myself around money today? (organize receipts, reconcile a bank account, pay a bill, ask someone for money they owe you, etc., make a bus. call about a job, organize your wallet — put all of your bills facing the same way, etc.

7) What are (3) ways I provide value through my Art (or whatever business you are involved with?) In my case it might be I inspire others to laugh, shift their mindset about a problem, provide connection for people who buy one of my cards and send it on to a friend, etc.

8) What are three ways I was spontaneous today that gave me joy? The other day it was visiting the parrot store and hanging out with the parrots, taking a yoga class at a different yoga studio, got tix to “Come from Away” for New Year’s Eve.

9) What are (3) repetitive thoughts that swirl around your head all the time that are either not true or no longer serve you? For me, sometimes it can be that I feel like a failure when my business doesn’t produce steady income, that I am incompetent ‘technically,’ or that I’m doing something wrong (as sometimes I feel that I’m not good at handling money and dealing with debt and creating more income every day). These are the beliefs that go back and forth on any given day. Sometimes, they are true and sometimes, they are NOT.

I hope this will help you feel more powerful and value yourselves instead of staying, “Well my life sucks and that’s just the way it is.” As Mel says, You may not feel like doing something like getting out of bed, taking care of your health, picking up a phone and calling someone about a job. But choosing not to do anything about something that is not serving you is a choice.

Most of us are struggling with some issue of self-love, likability, competence, vulnerability, being your authentic self vs. what we show people via outward appearances (via the mask/façade), self-worth, overwhelm, stress, self- appreciation and recognition of our gifts.

I recently re-listened to a podcast with Angela Manuel-Davis who was on The Sheri & Nancy Show. http://thisisfiftywithsheriandnancy.libsyn.com/ep-035-angela-manuel-davis-honor-your-body. Angela is a force-of-nature, fitness expert/runner/Nike and an amazing motivational speaker who channels her spiritual effervescence into saying that your body houses your divine gifts and that to honor your body (whether it is to take care of yourself, to lose weight, to be kind to the parts of you that you are beating up) — you can shift your thinking so that your purpose, your gifts for you to share with others during your life can only be manifested through your body and mind. When you re-focus on the gifts you are here in this lifetime to share, you realize that you need to take care and love the body who is helping manifest your talents. It changes your need to lose weight. You can stop beating yourself up about that. It changes the way we can see we are not kind to ourselves because the bigger picture is what we are giving and sharing with the world while we are here.

That message was eye-opening and expansive. That was one of the reasons I created the above exercise. We must appreciate ourselves every day for who we are, what we do, how we create, how we inspire. For me, it is through my writing, my ability to see things with humor and the lessons I explore through my quirky illustrations.

Be Kind to Yourself. You are Worth it!

Elisa

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FIRED UP, FED UP & FEELING those HOLIDAY BLUES…

Elisa Goodman — Thu, 13 Dec 2018 18:39:45 +0000

As we roll into Christmas in a couple of weeks – and in the aftermath of the horrendous Los Angeles/Bay Area fires that ravaged and swallowed up whole towns, I have been in a reflective mood and somewhat, isolated state (aside from last week’s beautiful CRAFTY CASTER Event).

A malaise has been setting in – a protective aura/numbness has encircled my body like a chalk outline in a crime scene…. I think it’s a layer of grief, overwhelm and anticipated doom….

For me – as a generally upbeat (albeit curmudgeonly person), I espouse to be “present” – yet I find myself in past and future time and again…and am conscious of my avoidance to stay in the present emotional pain. Watching my 97-year old mother slow down, feeling grateful she is so in tact, so present, so vibrant…and at the same time – vulnerable, forgetful and so scared to die. Feeling the loss of her eventual passing, the huge task of dismantling her house that will occur, the feeling of overwhelm even though I have been cleaning and trying to organize things for years…there is always more and the piles continue. There are days when I cannot stand it. I am grateful that she tells me I am so loved, so special, so proud. Some days I can hear it and some days I have to get off the phone and return to my silence of my work. In the Briggs/Meyers assessment…I’m pretty much an INFJ…

I spend a lot of time thinking anyway — whether listening to memoirs, walking on the beach, meditating, watching people — their way of walking, their body language, looking for clues as to what is going on for them… the story their faces tell. Their private grief, their backstory, their challenges. Many never smile, make eye contact. It’s hard to connect. If I didn’t show up at art shows every week as my “job”, I would be a hermit – happily content in my apartment – playing with fabric, designing cards, creating new illustrations and organizing drawers. I can’t deal with small, idle, boring, useless conversation…I don’t have time for it. I want answers. I want clarity. I want connection.

For those lucky enough to be able to celebrate this holiday, we know many of us are conflicted — brimming with emotion, connection, love, guilt and gratitude for another year. So many changes have been bestowed upon us…some welcomed and some unwanted. What we continue to learn is that people STEP-UP in a crisis…and are generous in their hearts –as we are continually tested time and again. A heart-felt Thank You for however you choose to show up, give of yourself to support others—from supporting artists to supporting the world with your vision and your work.

For me, I know it feels overwhelming to feel like I am not doing ENOUGH. But I think any small step is enough. As a part-time caregiver for my mom who is almost 98, I am also at home a good portion of the time – prepping cards, designing, fulfilling orders, managing her financial life as well as mine. As much as I would like to “do more” – I try to do one thing a day that does not have to do with me. And that, at the end of the day, is actually ENOUGH. I may reach out to check in with someone, actually call to wish them a Happy Birthday (instead of just sending them a FB ‘Happy Birthday’, follow through on something I said I would send, read someone’s post on FB and comment on it — sending a handwritten note (which you think I would do more often as I have a car full of them) – often I want to and realize I don’t have your address in my phone and don’t have time to call you as I’m at a post office and am pressed for time…

One of my posts a couple of weeks ago was taken from a FB Greeting Card Group I am sometimes a part of – someone was talking about the connection that sending a greeting card makes…and she mentioned that one of her store owners refers to greeting cards as “PAPER HUGS.” Isn’t that sweet? Who can’t use some encouragement from receiving a PAPER HUG? You can even buy a great card at Trader Joe’s for just .99 cents! Although just today, Jennifer Williams just commented she sends my handmade cards when she needs “more than a card but less than a gift” to connect with someone. I was blown away by those words. They wrapped me up like a warm cashmere sweater.

After the fires a couple of weeks ago came a “help” request from Lisa Schultz (the owner/curator of The Whole 9 Gallery in Culver City). She was looking to collect (100) New or Great Condition towels for SHOWER of HOPE – a mobile Shower that shows up in neighborhoods for those needing to shower. They were going to go to Malibu to provide showers and deliver clean towels to residents who had to evacuate.

I opened my closet and took out (5) Bath Towels and dropped them off at the gallery. This was not some big bravado “Look what I did moment.” I used to have (3) bathrooms when I had our condo. Now that I’ve downsized to a small apartment, I’ve got extra towels I brought over and never use. It was a no-brainer. I have two towels left. One for my current use and one if I’m doing laundry or have as a guest back-up. When, if comes time when I need more towels, I can always buy more. Do I miss them? NO.

Two years ago a friend of mine had a severe “toaster” fire in her home in Topanga. I gave her a second set of very nice silverware I had and other things I had in my kitchen that I had duplicates of. Things I have had in garage sales that were too good to toss out and no longer needed for a party of one. Happy to have had them find a good home. We all have too much useless stuff in my opinion. Whenever I go the market or stores in general, I am genuinely overwhelmed by the full stock shelves these places have – this is just one store on this one street – the consumerism is so gross and out of alignment. When I multiply to the entire United States and how all of the clothing and food gets made…it’s really disturbing.

Last week, Mimi Mayer of Angel City Talent put out an APB for the Telfair School in the valley that has a very high proportion of homeless families and that she was on a mission to collect school & art supplies, clothing (Kids & adults), socks, backpacks, diapers, basic things for families in need. She had researched this school and wanted to make a difference in the lives of kids who should not have this kind of stress just going to school. The rally began. The FB posts, the drop-offs, the little soldiers on the street ready for their assignment to gather and organize. The Target runs…

Thank you to all my friends who are deep thinkers, do-ers, responders, creatives, funny inspirers — my personal happy band of thieves who make the world a merrier place in a world gone mad.

Keep spreading the laughter on those little moments where storytelling becomes the thing that helps shift the mood from uncertainty & chaos to one of comfort & connection.

Happy Holidays!

Elisa

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Are You Open to Communicating?

Elisa Goodman — Wed, 17 Oct 2018 04:29:52 +0000

Just Saying ‘Hi’ — Connection, Creativity and Correspondence – Millennials wanting to connect…the Old Fashioned Way!

In August of this year, I was randomly contacted Veronica An, a staff writer at the online magazine, The Hub in Los Angeles. She was writing a story about whether or not I thought sending out greeting cards was experiencing a resurgence — and, specifically, with Millennials.

She asked if I had noticed any patterns in the stationery industry in general for sending greeting cards. As I have been a greeting card designer for 18 years with my own line, CURMUDGEON CARDS (https://curmudgeoncards.com/) — I enthusiastically answered, “Yes.”

For years I have been expressing my concern that the next big area for skilled therapists will be in the area of Grief Therapy for the younger generation who live and die by their phones. Proper interaction and regular old-fashioned contact with people will be necessary for their mental health in years to come (if not immediately). Connection is crucial. How will they process emotions and connect if they don’t actually have emotional contact? Sending cards is an act of generosity — saying that you took time out of your day to think of someone besides yourself and just say, “Hi — I’m so happy I have you in my life….That’s what I was thinking about you today!” *See my popular card, “Frannie & Zach” – https://curmudgeoncards.com/?s=frannie++%26+zach.

While my messages are typically geared for a 45-75 yr crowd in some kind of transition/re-imagination/reinvention: job, relationship, spiritually crisis of meaning, revaluation of what’s true and real, creativity and self-expression — I’m always happy when younger people stop by my booth and “get” my art. I tell them if you can learn some of these life lessons now, you can save yourself a mid-life crisis and shave off years of therapy by choosing joy and connection — less obligation and feeling it’s because I should do that/stay with that person/wait until…. because you didn’t follow your curiosity/heart/joy and realize life is short and you better get on with it – hence my popular memoir, “Life’s Too Short to Spend with Assholes – a “Skewed” LOOK into the Art of Daily Living.” https://curmudgeoncards.com/product/lifes-too-short-to-spend-with-assholes-book/

While many beautiful stationery stores I used to have as clients have disappeared (Frances Orr (BH & Corona del Mar), Embrey Papers, Pulp, The Card Factory, Soolip to name a few) — luckily, Joan Flax of Flax: Pen to Paper (Westwood) and Linda Oppenheim of Arts & Letters (Santa Monica) are still creatively thriving as wonderful outlets for unique greeting cards and thankfully, still carry some of my handmade designs.

Here’s the article from The Hub. If you are one of those people who do send greeting cards — I will take the liberty of saying Thank You on behalf of all greeting card designers.

Enjoy!

Millennials buck stereotypes and turn to traditional tech for stationery

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Sometimes, It’s Simply All About the Icing on the Cake and, sometimes, it’s just All About the EVE.

Elisa Goodman — Tue, 16 Oct 2018 07:43:47 +0000

So a little shout out goes to The Geffen Playhouse Staff, Ashton Kutcher & Mila Kunis…

I took my mom to the Geffen last night to see “THE CAKE” with Debra Jo Rupp who was DELICIOUSLY GREAT! (I highly recommend it!). It’s playing through mid-October in the smaller Audrey Skirball Kenis theatre and I bought tickets several weeks ago as my mom enjoys going to the theatre. I decided to select seats in the back row of the theatre on the aisle — so that my mom would be able to see and not have an obstructed view. Our last foray to the Geffen see the play “Our Very Own Carson McCullough” and the proscenium set was high and, as we were in the front row on the floor, we had to crane our necks to watch. The tix prices vary greatly between several rows so I opted for the back row aisle seats because I thought, why not? It’s a small theatre and shouldn’t be a problem. OY.

We were the first ones to enter the theatre and the usher was there to help us to our seats. When my mom, (with her walker), was told she’d have to climb a few low steps to get to the seats echoed that she couldn’t get up there. She walks up far more stairs in her house which I was surprised about. Immediately, the house manager went to work to find us alternative seats while I went to re-park the car which had been temporarily parked in a loading zone while I dropped her off.

When I returned, I now found her newly relocated, smack in the center, seated next to a small, dark haired woman and a tall, handsomely boyish man. As I’m no longer in casting and “out of the loop”, so to speak, my ‘Spidey’ sense emerged with a blurry sense of recognition and said to myself, “Boy, he looks familiar — who is that? Within seconds I realized it was Ashton Kutcher and Mila Kunis — two regular people just out of an evening of theatre. It dawned on me later that Debra Jo Rupp played his mom on “That ’70’s Show.” The seats were undoubtedly ‘House Seats’ (which usually mean center seats – 7-10 rows from the stage depending on the venue). The chairs sat low because they were only one row raised from floor. The seats are also wide and small people like us needed a booster seat or phone book (TBT – Remember phone books?) to prop ourselves up. Curling myself under my legs wasn’t going to help. I sank into seat like an old arm chair in need of an upholstery fluff. All the people in front of us were in folding chairs on the floor level and happened to be very large and tall patrons (it was like VIKINGS had descended on the Geffen — or they were relatives of the actor who was to play the husband in the show who was 6’3 and chunky. The tour bus from the Big and Tall Store had descended on this intimate venue. Still, neither of us could see the stage. Thus began my new dialogue with the house manager that my mom still couldn’t see.

While I was busy dealing with that, Ashton and Mila (my mom’s new acquaintances) decided together to switch seats with her. Mila is just as tiny as my mother so that didn’t really help her view of the stage either. I didn’t know what to say. That helped for a minute until more tall people showed up and once again, away I went to try to discuss alternative seat possibilities. The house staff did their level best to speak to other seated patrons, asking them to switch seats, politely get up as we shuffled in and out of rows and move us around. It was crazy. Our original seats were still unused. I longed to be up, up and away.

Meanwhile, the 8:00pm curtain time was on ‘Stand By’ as they quickly deposited us into the premium aisle seats I was going to buy originally — had I decided to pony up the extra money for the higher priced seats. Everyone was patient and thoughtful and I was very grateful. Amy Levinson, (the newly named Associate Director and long-time Dramaturge of the Geffen is a longtime family friend so I dropped her name just to let them know we were a supporter of the Geffen and knew a few people). They were unfazed and would have bent over backwards for any audience member to have a good experience at the theatre. Kudos to the staff!

Ultimately, the way the show was staged from where we were now sitting had several characters talking with their backs to the audience and made some scenes impossible to fully view. Frustratingly, there were people in front of us who again blocked that view — and while I had a clear opening, I could tell my mom could not see. I wanted to move my mom to my seat but dared not interrupt the play as there was no intermission. I had also ordered her a headset but they had the kind that goes into your ear which she hates (instead of the older over-the-ear kind of ear muffs which are better for her). She tried to put it on over her head and put it over her eyes like 3-D glasses — it was a fiasco. So all in all, she missed most of the play — but, as it turns out, I was left with a good story to share.

While we were chatting with M & A, they found out my mom was 97. They thought she looked amazing (which she usually does) and was impressed that she was able to be out enjoying theatre. M had shared that her grandmother of 97 had just passed away and another relative who was 94 had told she told her that when all of your friends die, you just don’t want to be around anymore. This is really hard. My mom has lost a number of close friends this past year and recently asked me if she has any friends left. Totally heartbreaking — which is why I still take her to the theatre. She loves live theatre and gave me the gift of taking me to plays when I was younger. Luckily, she has a few friends left — but many of the people she hangs out with are the children of her best friend’s.

I shared with them the pix of John, a lovely man we met last year, who gave up his seat to my mom at the doctor’s office who was 102 1/2. (I tried to set them up on a lunch date which never materialized — only to find out last week when we ran into him again at the doctor’s off that he has digestion problems and lives on a liquid diet). I told M & A that the secret to my mom’s beauty and long life was that she is never angry and never toxic. I also shared John’s philosophy that his secret to a long life is that he just tells people to F***K Off. Mila was amused by this and was happy to get two major life lessons on the secret of longevity. I was happy I could return their kindness and give something back. Thank you to Mila & Ashton for their kindness and adaptability. Sometimes, it’s simply All About the Icing on the Cake and sometimes, it’s just, All About the EVE. Namaste. . Namaste.

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