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Issue of August 22, 2008
Dear That’s Life,
A New Tisha B’Av Lamentation, as heard on Central Avenue:
To give my daughter and son-in law an opportunity to rest on Tisha B’Av, I took my two-year-old grandson for a walk in Cedarhurst. Our destination was the Lawrence-Cedarhurst Fire Department, where Ari Zvi loves to check out the yellow and red fire trucks and the white ambulance. We headed down Maple Avenue, and then turned left onto Central Avenue.
At that moment, I actually thought we had entered Gan Eden. The sun was shining. There wasn’t a car in sight! All the stores were closed and the sidewalks were devoid of people. It was so quiet that we were able to hear birds chirping, bees buzzing and crickets cricking. As we passed the White House apartments, we actually stopped to watch as some baby birds walked towards Ari’s carriage in a choreographed formation.
For me, this moment was nostalgic, reminding me of what Central Avenue was like over 50 years ago, when I was growing up. Back then, when walking on the avenue, one could simply stop and appreciate the sights and sounds of the village. Back then, there were no cell phones; there were no meter maids and minimal, if any, traffic congestion. Back then, people respected each other, respected the law and wouldn’t think of double parking or making illegal u-turns.
Ari and I proceeded to the firehouse, enjoyed our visit and started back down Central Avenue on our return trip. It was now about 11:30 a.m., and it was time to head back so Ari could have his lunch and nap. As I crossed Spruce Street, I noticed a car parked up ahead, in front of the Bagelry. On the sidewalk, two people were sitting outside at a table, eating brunch. From a distance, it appeared as though a meter maid was behind the car, about to write a ticket.
As I approached, I realized that she was actually hanging out behind the car and talking on her cell phone. I couldn’t believe what I heard. The meter maid was lamenting that the town was desolate and there was nothing for her to do.
As I watched her in her pain, I took pity on her and told her not to worry, that it was a Jewish fast day and that the stores would open up sometime soon, and definitely by 1 p.m.
Vicki Fishof
Cedarhurst
Dear That’s Life,
Having a colonoscopy is not my idea of a good time. The reality is, however, that you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do, and it was time for me to do it.
If you have had this test, you understand what the day before my appointment was like. To those of you who have yet to share in the experience, I will spare you the details. I will only say that while many tests require preparation, the experience of preparing for this procedure is quite unpleasant, as the complete cleaning out of one’s body would certainly be. To all who have filled prescriptions for “Go-Lytely,” and have finished the entire gallon jug, you feel my pain.
Already dreading the moment I would have to start drinking the vile liquid, I approached the counter at the pharmacy and gave them my last name, ready to pick up the prescription.
“Is this for you?” asked the clerk, to which I responded, “Yes.” He asked me to confirm my date of birth and I did.
After paying, I reached out to take the (what seemed like an enormous) jug from the clerk. As he handed it over, with the straightest face possible and without trying to smirk at all, clearly knowing what the ingestion of this liquid would do to my body, he looked me straight in the eye and said with a smile, “Have a nice day.”
MLW
