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Why is the Path I Usually Choose to Take, Covered With Horse Sh*t”?

28 Oct

Ever wonder what the hell it is you are supposed to do in this life?

It’s been a lifelong struggle for me. Well, I mean the only thing I’m sure of that I was meant to do was be a mother. Now back in the day, no not that day, that day, it was ok to just want to grow up to be a wife, mother, homemaker. There were books and magazines dedicated to that shit. “Good Housekeeping”, “Redbook”, “How to Keep Your Husband Happy”. Then somewhere along the line, feminists threw that all out the window. To just want to get married and be a homemaker was a disgrace, a loser, a simple minded woman who couldn’t do anything else.

Ouch.

But my struggle started way before realizing that being a mother was my calling, that came later. Early on, in the 1960’s I was raised in a family of overachievers. My parents were both Penn State graduates. My Mother was a 1948 college graduate, which put her a little ahead of her time. A very intellectual, very strong woman, very driven. My Father, another driven guy, went to college, left to serve in WWII, then came back and finished college. Having no high money earning or intellectual dreams wasn’t acceptable in my family.

Soooo, lucky me, I was born creative into a family where you must choose one of the following career paths – teacher, lawyer, doctor,scientist,  engineer, counselor, nurse, or business management. I seemed to have no viable skills as I was growing up, so I thought. And if you didn’t have viable skills you were chastised, or maybe I just told myself that. Looking back, in parts of my life I was an A student… usually until boredom, anxiety or depression hit, then I tanked. I loved history, I was really good at English basics (spelling and grammar, however I later almost failed  Composition Writing in college), I was a good swimmer, and I was pretty decent in theater. Yup, so… what am I supposed to do with that? Doesn’t amount to much, so I thought.

I thought I finally figured it out in high school! I want to be an actor! That’s it! I’ve always been a ham, I crack jokes, I got the female lead in “Fiddler on the Roof”… I’ll be an actor! So, come college search time and I excitedly tell my parents I want to major in theater. Great, right? “We’re not paying for you to go to college to become a waitress”, was their reply. Exact words. Wham! Thud. A blow right between the eyes of my self-esteem, hopes and dreams.

However, in the last few years in my period of rediscovery, with no real preparation I tried auditioning for a few things and failed miserably, so maybe my parents did save me some time.

But to their credit they gave me an alternative to ponder. My Father’s brother had been the President of ABC News until his death in 1974, “Why don’t you go into broadcasting like Uncle John, that’s a new major now.”. Hey ok, I always wanted to be a DJ. It was the early 80’s it was a new thing. It was great until I got out of school and my hopes were dashed realizing that being a DJ on the radio didn’t mean you could play or say whatever you wanted. It was cue up the record, announce it, then say “we’ll be back after these messages”. Then all the corporations came in in the 1990’sand bought up the stations and I just wasn’t a good corporate, yes-man team player. I grew bitter. If I could only just be a coporate guy.

I had just gotten married and within 2 years gotten pregnant. After my son came along is when I realized I wanted to be a full-time mom. My ex-husband said no. I begged for a few years then I got to because I was on bed rest. I was happy, all the while him telling me that I was useless because I wasn’t bringing any money in. When my third baby was about 16 months old, we called it quits for good. Being “just a mom” wasn’t an option anymore. I was told I had to work. I scrambled to find something that would bring in money. I was working to cover daycare, nothing extra. How fucking stupid. I wish I’d had the guts back then to say no, until these kids all get in school I’m staying home and you’re paying. (believe me, he made enough) But I was stubborn and wanted to show I was no “freeloader”.

I jumped from one job to another over the last 13 years trying to figure out what it was I was supposed to do. However, I never really had the opportunity to find something I love,d it was always “grab the first thing so you have an income”. I was never happy, I was never really any good at any of those jobs, and I was always late or taking a sick day because to me, kids came first (they certainly didn’t to their Father, so someone had to). Sorry, a 6 year old can’t stay home vomiting by themselves. I kept taking sales related jobs because everyone thought I had such a great personality for it and had the prospect for good money. I hate sales! And I suck at it. “I wouldn’t buy this either, put your money to better use.”

About once a year or so I’d find myself looking for another job again for a variety of reasons. The main one I’m finding is because I didn’t choose wisely, I just went for the first paycheck I could find. I’m tired of that. I’ve been trying to leave that behind. I think I’ve finally found what I love but the pay is somewhat lower than craptastic right now and not enough hours. Doesn’t fit into the plan my family always told me I was supposed to take. And it’s hard when you’re trying to feed, house, and put three kids through college.

I lost a job recently that was really good pay for part-time and it was helping to keep the boat afloat. But due to cash flow problems, I was let go from that sinking ship. It was a blessing actually because it was emotionally draining for various reasons, but losing it left a big money void, so here I am once again figuring out what to do. At least I have recently been blessed with realizing that I don’t have to tow the party-line. I don’t have the pressure of believing I need to do what my parent’s thought I should do. I’ve been blessed to have several articles and books put in my path that said there are a lot of famous, brilliant, happy, and sometimes rich people that failed out of college, been fired from jobs, and had several failures in their life until they found their purpose.

Albert Einstein, Jack Kerouac, Buckminster Fuller, Lucille Ball, Bill Gates, Thomas Edison, Oprah, Emily Dickinson. All either failed school, were called dumb, been fired, or had countless business and life failures… but all ended up becoming revered in an area which they finally thrived and persevered. Yay, maybe I found a club to join, losers unite!

We’re not all conformists with a perfect path. I have accepted that I don’t conform. And that’s ok. I think. Some have gifts we haven’t quite figured out what they are yet. Some of us think we have gifts but spend too much time listening to the expectations of others. Some of us think we might have figured out the gift or purpose but just aren’t quite sure how to exactly use it and break out of the wrong path we’ve been travelling on.

Buckminster Fuller spoke of the epiphany he had after trying to kill himself because of several recent failures. He said:

“You do not belong to you. You belong to Universe. Your significance will remain forever obscure to you, but you may assume that you are fulfilling your role if you apply yourself to converting your experiences to the highest advantage of others.”

Or sometimes you realize you just really want to lay concrete for the rest of your life. That helps others, right?

Isn’t that a nice thought? I don’t know how realistic it all is, but it proves my concept of figuring out what you’re supposed to do and still try an earn a living. You guys are lucky that have a specific vocation, “I want to be a hairdresser”, bam! Fulfillment, success and money. Those of us who can’t seem to put our finger on our purpose, feel rejected. It gives me food for thought, but still doesn’t tell me what the hell I’m supposed to do.

 

 

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“Miley, Joe Francis Wants to Know if He Can See Your Boobs”

27 Aug

Yea, for lack of anything better to write today (which is balogna, I have a lot, just not the time), I’m going to hop on the Miley Cyrus search engine train.  Yes, hopefully I’ll show up in a search and all will come flocking to my blog!  Pfffft.

Anyway, my two cents…

I was her once.  Well, not that I was a child star trying to make my mark in the grownup world… I mean I was her age once.  The age where you are caught between child and adult.    I think every woman has gone through this, some to different degrees of course.   I get it, I get it, you’ve had to be so squeaky clean for years and being raised in the spotlight with a Dad with bad hair and all… it’s tough.

It happens… as girls we are taught to be good, polite, pretty,  smart, demure, and neatly dressed.   But at some point we get all “You can’t tell me what to do!  I’m an adult now, I can do anything I want!”  Add to that you start to get tingly sensations in your naughty bits that you never had before and you’re just dying for someone to touch your boobies.   But most likely you still live it home (whether in college or not), still have stuffed animals on your bed, and still enjoy a Disney movie when you are home alone.  Stuck between a kid and an adult place.

She speaks for every girl who got shit-faced, snot-hanging drunk in her first weekend at college and danced on the bar, showed her boobs, and did some grinding on the faculty adviser of that one fraternity house.   Except this chick did it in front of millions and will forever be on tape.   Of course regular college girl could have same problem if Joe Francis and “Girls Gone Wild” comes around taping.  “Go ahead start making out with your friend and show us your tit-tays”

Lucky for college girls of my day,  the only capturing of the night was done in memory and with time people forget.

I’m not saying what she did was bad or whatever… it was just dumb.  It was just a shock-value thing.  There was no artistic-value whatsoever – the singing was bad and she can’t dance.  And the part of having all big-bootied black backup dancers was in poor taste.  Like really poor racist-ish taste.  Who didn’t think that one through?

Girl just looked stupid.  Yes, yes it’s fun to play with a foam hand and pretend it’s a phallic symbol, we’ve all done it (what, you haven’t?)… but that’s your performance on national TV?   We call her performance “the shit you did in your dorm room with friends as you’re getting ready to go out.”  And that’s probably where it should stay.

But above all… put your mother fuckin’ tongue back in your mouth!  Ain’t nothin’ sexy ’bout that.  Every 2 seconds with the tongue!  You know who puts their tongue out like that all the time?   People I used to work with in an institution who were severely mentally disabled with Down’s Syndrome, that’s who.   Not to be un-PC, but ya’ ever hear the term “window licker”?  I rest my case.

I just watched the video again.  I wasn’t offended, I just feel really embarrassed for her.  It was just dumb.  No need to crucify or chastise her.  But if she wanted press… she achieved her goal.  High-five, Miley!

 

BTW, digital version of my book is only $.99 right now on Amazon.com!  Get yours today!

Ms. Madigan, Tear Down This Wall!

6 Aug

I’ve had a very specific pattern to my life for the past 22 years.  I’ll have like one day of calm and then 29 days of slowly escalating disaster.  It’s like that tick tick ticking of a roller coaster as it is going up to the top before it drops.  And every so often I get stuck at the top of that hill before it drops, and I’m frozen with that panic gasp you get before the coaster takes the plunge.  Imagine that feeling… and you have to sit with it for days or weeks.

Do you ever get to that state of… I just can’t try anymore?  I have a quote in my head and I just can’t place it… I think it’s Eddie Murphy imitating like a singer or someone and he’s yelling “I can’t do no mo’, I can’t do no mo’!”   Anyone know what I’m talking about?  I’m usually so good at these useless lines… it must be because I’m at the wall.

Yea, so I’m at a wall right now.  This single parenting thing never seems to right itself.  There are endless finances that I need to pull out of my ass, time after time and well… I think my ass well is running dry.  Yes, the book is doing well but I have a shitload of lost time to make up for (read: bills).  That giant lump sum of back child support  sure would come in handy right about now. (Funk soul brother, right about now… sorry that song popped into my head)  Trying to find any other kind of work has been ridiculous for a couple years now.  And some of the freelance work I’ve been doing… let’s just say I’d rather take a soak in a big vat of poo.  No offense.  But I plug away.

I hate these impasses.  They are so frustrating.  I know, I know “This too shall pass”, as my Mother has always said but I just hate being in this moment.  It’s getting a little old.  The trouble with my moments… it’s not like “Oh darn we might not be able to go on that vacation this year”  My moments are like “We’re gonna’ get evicted” or “Sorry you can’t go back to school, I didn’t get the financial aid”

I think what I’m trying to say is… I’m not happy.  There is so much I want to do and be and I feel like my feet are stuck in concrete.  I know I can do it.

waterboy-you-can-do-it

I know I can have everything I want, but I’m stuck.  It’s not like I’m a miserable human being (I know some of you think otherwise… douchetotes), I’m happy with who I am, what I’ve become, and the love I can share.  But man this scraping by with 3 kids to raise by myself has gotten old.  I’m tired, y’all.  Not from raising the kids exactly, but the struggle for food and shelter… Jesus Christ, you’d think that would be pretty easy.  I adore my kids, I wish I could be a stay at home mom again (which I was for a minute about 13 years ago).  Raising children has been the biggest success and source of pure joy in my life.  But man how I wish I had a medical or law degree and had the steady coin.

It’s so frustrating, because I feel like I’m on the verge of something great or success or true joy… or maybe it’s just gas.  But I’m stuck.  Ok I need your help, how do I break through this wall?  Besides having a telethon for  myself?  And it can’t involve spending any money… ‘cuz homey ain’t got none.  So… give me your best advice…

Oh but first I have a small announcement to make… in a few weeks I have another book coming out!  It’s just a short companion piece to my recently published book “When Life Gives You Lemons… at Least You Won’t Get Scurvy!” .  Stay tuned!

And btdubs, if you have already read the book, reviews are always appreciated on Amazon and Goodreads.  Thanks!

Opinions are Like Bananas, They Go Bad After a While

9 Jul

Quick FYI FREE Kindle version of my book “When Life Gives You Lemons… at Least You Won’t Get Scurvy!” available on Amazon.com on Wednesday 7/10 thru Thursday 7/11!   CLICK HERE

 

You know that old saying, “Opinions are like assholes, everyone has one”?  My new version is “Opinions are like bananas, they go bad after a while”

bananas in pjs

 

(BTdubs, I really hated this show when my kids were little)

I’ve been dealing with that a lot lately.  As I have to make some decisions about my career, finances, living situation, kid’s college futures, etc… everyone has something different to say.  And most often it’s the complete opposite of what the last person said.

Oh don’t get me wrong, advice is good.  Bouncing things off people is good.  We all need to weigh things out.  But as you’re weighing and it starts to feel like one of those people from a TLC documentary like “The 900 lb Man” sitting on your chest… wait maybe the 900 lb man riding Mothra… well then it’s time to stop bouncing things off others.

One of the most intelligent things my ex-husband ever said as I was obsessed with the “What to Expect When You’re Expecting” books when I was pregnant was, “Throw the damn book away”.  Yea, he was right.  I was more worked up than a bag of cats tossed down a hill.

When you begin to doubt your own compass is when you need to take a step back.  For instance, I have my second child starting to look at colleges.  Now my son is going to one of the most expensive colleges in the Universe, NYU.  I’m trying to be realistic with my daughter.  He got scholarships but will still have a few big loans and the travel expense back and forth adds up.  My daughter can certainly apply to her dream schools but we need to weigh things out before accepting.  If I can’t afford to bring you home for Thanksgiving, we have a problem.   I have some people insisting I send my next two children to state schools or community college for two years then 4 year state school.  Uhhhh… no.  Nothing against them but state schools really aren’t any cheaper in my circumstance because they don’t give as much aid as private schools do.   I just know my kids, comunity college isn’t for them.   I started out at one school and was fucking miserable, then I transferred.  Some kids, it doesn’t really matter, others it does.

Jesus Christ stop telling me what to do!!!!   Aaaaarrgghhhh!!!!  I’ve raised these kids for 19 years pretty much on my own and gotten this far, do you think I’m freakin’ stupid?  The thing is, I’m a risk taker.  I’m not like the people who say “What if?”  “What if?”  ‘What if?”   I’m a “Let’s try it and if we need to change our course, we will”  kind of gal.  Maybe that wasn’t always the best thing, but at least I didn’t do it with anything crazy like, “Let’s try heroin and just see what happens”  or “Let’s just try unprotected sex with this guy who injects meth and see what happens”. (I don’t know, is injecting meth even a thing?)

If you are obsessed with making a move only if you can predict the outcome, then you can become paralyzed.  Conversely if you leap without thinking, you can find yourself in a heapload of shit.  I say weigh thing out, then take an educated leap of faith.  And there’s a lot to be said for gut instinct.  (Unless of course you’re a rapist or murderer)   I ain’t afraid.  But once I’ve made up my mind… leave me the fuck alone.  The outcome will eventually be apparent to me, I don’t need your predictive “Mark my words…”  bullshit, because shit ain’t happened yet!

Madge’s Useful Gift Guide for Wayward Grads

13 Jun

graduation_cap_and_diploma

 

It’s that time of year again… graduation time!  And as I am always striving to be oh-so-helpful, I have compiled a list of nifty gift ideas for the recent grad.  The ceremony has probably already happened but there are still a shitload of grad parties to attend and you don’t want to go empty handed!

For the high school grad:

1.  A box of condoms for college.

Let’s be honest, better safe than sorry.

t_magnum_l_12box2

 

2.  A voice-activated “Tattoo Alarm”.

This device is programmed so that when ever a freshly minted 18 year old drunkenly slurs the words “I’m gonna’ go get a tattoo”, an alarm sounds, hopefully jolting the youngster out of their stupor, an On-Star call center sends a tattoo interventionist to their location and his/her parents are automatically called.

beers

 

3.  A lighter.

There is no better way to meet guys or girls in college (or other youngster social settings) than to have one handy when someone is look for a light for their… whatever.

light

 

4.  Earplugs.

No better way to drown out loud drunken assholes on your dorm floor at 2:00am when you are trying to sleep… or to drown out the sounds of your roommate having sex.

Trying to Sleep 2

 

5.  A combination lock safe.

Because you will need a safe place to put your valuables like your booze and food that your roommate will surely pilfer.  Oh and I guess for like your electronics and stuff too.

safe

 

 

For the college grad:

1.  An “I Stayed Out All Night and Need to Go to Work in 15 Minutes” Survival Kit.

It contains:  Deod0rant, mouthwash, washcloth, aspirin, Gatorade, comb, Pepto Bismol, clean undies, clean shirt.

drunk

 

2.  A membership to an texting alert system that lets you know when your bank account has dipped under $20.

Because nobody ever remembers the trips to the ATM at 2:00am to buy more beer or food from the street meat truck.

bank

 

3.  Cleaning supplies.

Because chances are they never cleaned up after themselves in college, and now in your 20’s no one wants to hook up with someone with a bathroom that’s growing a beard.

gross bathroom

 

4.  A business etiquette book.

When you’re in the real working world, you’re boss or client won’t tolerate being called “Dude” or “Douchecopter”.

t1larg.swearing

 

5.  Business clothing that fits properly.

Sure they were fine for going to class but pajama bottoms drooping or folded down to reveal your asscrack are not suitable for the office or business meetings.

pajamas and uggs

 

Hope this helps.  And remember when all else fails, give cash.  Cash that will be blown on beer, video games or Taco Bell.  Good luck and Godspeed

Just Jill Went Up the Hill… and Hid in the Closet

14 May

Ok, here’s resuming my Kickstarter rewards.  See the thing was, if you contributed a certain amount to my Kickstarter project, your reward was to have a blog written about you.  I have a lot of you to do… you narcissistic fucks!  Just kidding!  You were helpin’ out The Madge and I appreciate it!

So today I need to talk about my little Jilly Jill.  Jill Sweeney-Bosa.  She was a nice Irish girl, Jill Sweeney when I knew her college.  Then she goes and marries some Italian dude or something.  I met Jill my sophomore year, she lived in my dorm.  And then senior year we were apartment mates.

I can honestly say, I don’t think I have ever laughed more with someone in my entire life.  Sorry.  I have a shitload of funny friends but Jill takes the cake.  Like I wouldn’t tell her to go on stand up tour it’s just… our sense of humor is so in-sync it’s ridiculous.  Always with the pop culture references.  The other was our habit of constantly changing the words to songs and singing them like we didn’t really know what they were.  You know, like you’d catch your Mother singing the wrong words to a popular song, because she really thought that’s what it was?

Some of my favorites “Don’t yank my schlong” instead of “Don’t get me wrong” by the Pretenders.  “It’s really humid” instead of  “I’m only human” by Human League.  (which also included the words “born to lick your face” instead of “born to make mistakes”)  Good times.  Good times.

Also in the high tech age of 1986 we convened nightly in the living room to catch the MTV countdown on our state of the art black and white TV.  Back then, that’s the only way you could see videos, and yes MTV still played them.   We waited anxiously to sing to “Fight for your right to party” by Beastie Boys and to do the hammer dance to Peter Gabriel’s “Sledgehammer”.  We were dorks.

Jill was so freakin’ funny when she told a story.  Still is.  One of my favorites is her telling a story of how she tried to escape this fraternity boy who we all knew and became an infamous womanizer. (but God he was my secret ultimate man if he wasn’t such a playboy, re: douche).  So little tiny Jilly from New Hampshire is getting hit on by uber preppy fraternity boy from Newport, Rhode Island. I don’t remember the specifics, but she ends up running out of the fraternity house party and across the street to our dorm.  He follows.  She ends up running upstairs to her room and hides in the closet.  He follows, looks around for her then leaves.  Like I said, don’t remember the specifics but to hear her talk about cowering in the closet is hillarious.  Ok, you had to be there.

One of my most memorable things is, and I don’t think I’ve ever told her this, the night she saved me.  Saved me from drowning in self-pity.  See Jill and her bestie and another roommate of ours Amy came to my wedding.  They were the only old college friends of mine that came, I don’t think I really invited many.  That’s  a long story for another time.  Anyway, ex had comandeered the guest list to be 90% his, 10% mine.  Hey, I was only 26, I didn’t know better.  My ex gets completely hammered with all of his college buddies at the wedding and completely ignores me.  But he is dancing with all of his old “girl buddies” at the wedding.

I was pissed.  I was sad… hurt, disappointed, you name it.  But I sat with my girlies and they said “screw it, he’s just drunk, don’t let that ruin your day”  So we went out on the dance floor.  I had a lot of fun.  I remembered Jill’s message for years, every time he started to spiral I thought, I (and the kids) are not gonna’ get dragged down with him.  I still tried to carry on and work hard and make the best life possible.  During marriage and after marriage.  It’s been hard but I always picture Jill and Amy saying “Oh no you don’t, Madge!  Knock off the pity party!”

Jill, I love you for always reminding me that I have value.  You always remind me that I’m funny, smart, and strong.  You my dear, are a whole lot of funny, smart, and strong and I love you for it.  And I want more Sophie stories!

Oh and it case you’d like to buy my book, you can find it here.  It’s on sale!

 

Madge’s Got Back… Cover

2 May

 

Big Announcement!

God willing… and if the planets are aligned, my book will be available for sale Monday May 6th! Stay tuned for links to buy (Amazon, Kindle, etc.) You want to know what it’s about? Here’s the back cover… click on pic to enlarge if you can’t read or ya’ know if ya’ got a lazy eye or somethin’. Come ‘n get it, y’all!

 

Back Cover

 

 

Ok, onward and upward!  On to another installment of Kickstarter Backers Rewards!  Next we have my tribute to Mr. Dana Snyder!

Dana, Dana, Dana.  Dana is another college friend.  I met Dana my sophomore year, he was I believe co-general manager of the college radio station I worked at (and we were both broadcasting majors)  and he happened to be an RA up on the third floor of my dorm where I hung out a lot.

Dana was the wicked cool RA.  (That’s what we said in Maine)  Dana was into all the cool new wave music I was into, he was also into competitive cycling, and he had a dead pan delivery that could have you in tears.  I can’t even explain it, Dana has this very innocent face, ok yes he was really cute in college, I think he used to look kind of like Sting back in the day… anyway, he would say these very, um like kind of… does anyone remember Emily Litella, the character from SNL played by Gilda Radner?  She was always confusing words, like “What’s all this I hear about violins on TV?  I think violins are lovely?”   He would say stuff like that in a total dead pan delivery.  I think people that didn’t know him probably thought he was mildly retarded.

And yes, I think every other girl in the dorm had a crush on him.  I will not confirm or deny that I had a mild crush at one time. *ahem*   But hey he was irresistable… cute and funny.  Ok and a bit of a nerd.  It was weird, I was friends with all of these guys on the third floor.  It was the 80s, they were preppy/pothead/ski bum/fraternity bro/girl scamming/music lovin’ guys, but… they all wanted to go down to dinner at a specific time so they could race back up to the TV lounge to watch re-runs of Star Trek.  *crickets*

Yea, it was the mid 80s, re-runs of the original Star Trek – William Shatner, Leonard Nimoy, et al.  Seriously, run and leave you behind in a hurry.  To watch Star Trek.  Bunch of dorks.  Cheers would erupt if it was a favorite episode.  And Dana was one of them.  I guess that’s why I loved all those guys, they were very diverse in their interests.  Yea, that’s it.

I also remember Dana had a cool button collection on his jacket.  We new wave dorks had collections of buttons on our jackets in the 80s.   It was usually names of bands, or the occasional slogan “Why be normal?”.  Anyway, I still have one of the buttons I traded him for, it was an Insect Surfers button.  I have no idea what I traded.

Oh another item I have from him and I’m sure he’ll be surprised.  Two of the guys that lived on his floor were Gus and Nick.  They were roommates and 2 of my best friends.  They were both a bit hyper and had their own language.  So one night in my junior year Dana and a few others were over at my apartment and we decided to make a “Nictionary”, named after Nick of course.  There were things like… everything ended in “age” as in “I’m going to get some drinkage and eatage”.  Also, “I was totally luggage” or “She was totally Samsonite” which meant someone was passed out from drinking.  Girl’s breasts were torpedoes or ICMB’s.  Yea, they were equal opportunity offenders.

But Dana thought it was funny and we created a dictionary and I still have it.  And now he’s grown up, married to the fabulous Alice whom he had been dating since college much to the dismay of many a campus co-ed.  And he has two wonderful chidren, one a college student, the other a recent college grad.  He was in NY on business a few years ago and we went out to dinner.  He hasn’t changed a bit… except for he’s even skinnier than college.  Who does that?!  Anyway, incredibly grateful for Dana and his support and friendship… and all the laughs.

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