Peggy got here about 1:30, and we drove to Romanelli's Garden Cafe to meet Betty. I had the same grilled shrimp with fresh fruit I did last week and so did Peg. Yummy, yum, yum, although we remarked that only three shrimp were included.
After good talk, we parted from Betty and Peg and I went back to my house to stay for another 20 minutes or so. After she left, it was almost 5:00 and I went next door to ask Frank to come in to see the general's picture for "Hedda Gabbler." I was surprised to hear the play has been scrapped. It seems two of the main male actors withdrew; the rest of the cast was reassigned to "Deathtrap." Frank and Barbara came over to see the portrait anyway, and to chat with Pat. F. thought it would have been perfect for "Hedda" and took pictures. I don't want to be responsible for it, though, so called Betty and we agreed to meet at Jimmy Leeds Road and exchange it. Also, she'll be here today later to return Pat's car, then meet up with Suzanne, who will take her home so she can get the Rapid Rover to the airport tomorrow.
Got Pat dinner, then left with Frank for a murder mystery script session at Mary Ellen's in far off Barneget Light. Didn't get home until almost 10:00 and to bed until 11:00.

Yesterday was so exciting, I can barely remember it. I know I straightened up a little. Went over to feed Susan's cat and parrot. Ran into Mary Ann Van O. in the morning; Bart's in rehab.* Retrieved A.'s watch from the park nearby.
Today should be more interesting, as Peg N. is stopping here, then we'll meet Betty for lunch at Romanelli's Garden Cafe. Tonight, I have a murder mystery script meeting; will go with Frank.
* Not that kind of rehab: He's recovering from another bout of pneumonia after a hospital stay.

So-so day. Nothing going on except the usual--interminable--care giving and housekeeping chores, aside from the following:
Late in the afternoon, husband Pat was watching Ferris Bueller's Day Off. Now, I always loved that movie, so I sat down to watch it. It was just as enjoyable as ever, especially the big crowd scene when everybody follows Matthew Broderick in a rousing rendition of "Twist and Shout." I always thought Mia Sara, the young actress who plays his girlfriend had a unearthly beauty. Now she's 42 years old and, judging from her pictures on Internet sites, is not particularly striking.
Watching television in the daytime always seems to me the height--or depth--of a sad existence and intellectual depravity. Geez, it was sunny and hot--I should have been at the pool, or gardening, or at least putting in a load of wash! Well, so what--I pretty much toe the line most days and it's one of my favorite movies. Why? I have to admit the whole premise--defying convention and walking away from your obligations--appeals to me, even if I rarely have the guts to follow the idea.
Incidentally, I checked and found out Ferris Bueller came out twenty-three year ago! At my age, that seems if not yesterday, maybe the day before yesterday, but still, it was a long time ago. No matter, it was a mildly enjoyable interlude and I need all of those I can get.

What an enjoyable evening at the Surf City Hotel! Went with Susan and Walter after receiving instructions on feeding their cat ("Cherise") and African Grey parrot ("Alex"). I'm caring for them while S. and W. are in Connecticut for a few days.
There were 12 at dinner and we had a great time. After a cool glass of Chardonnay at the bar, we repaired to a semi-private dining room and I ordered broiled flounder. Washed it down with Miller Lite, then topped off the meal with "Bailey's Irish coffee"--yum! The food was superb, the company rollicking, and it was a fun night.
I was invited to join the Dine-Around group again next month and am looking forward to it.

Enjoyed first P. and N., then the Singapore contingent on web cam calls yesterday. Other than that and the usual, it was pretty tame, so I'm going to devote this post to injustice.
Wider: At the supermarket nearby, there's a young woman cashier who caught my eye some time ago. I guess she's in her twenties or early thirties. She has a pretty, big-eyed face, but personifies the expressions "painfully thin" and "painfully shy." She's about my height--5'4"--and I doubt if she weighs over 90 pounds. I've rarely met anyone so introverted. When she rings up purchases, she glances at customers only occasionally and speaks in such a low voice, it's difficult to hear her. Not wanting to join the leagues of snap-judgementers, I'm not going to speculate on whether she could be identified as someone with Asberger's Syndrome, but it seems possible.
A few months ago, I saw her standing on Center Street and asked if I could drive her somewhere, but she declined politely, saying she was waiting for someone. Since then, we've exchanged a few words when I go in the store, as I did the other day.
After my years in HR, I retain an interest in employment and I asked about her work. I found that the store isn't unionized and a lot of the cashiers are high school or college kids, but she works full-time. However, she's paid hourly and gets no benefits at all--no paid sick days, no paid holidays, no paid vacation time, no retirement--and, naturally, no medical insurance. She remarked as so many people must, that she "can't afford to go to the doctor."
I wonder how much the owners or stock holders of Shop 'N' Bag receive. It seems so wrong and bad that this young woman is in such a precarious position and very likely she's doomed to remain there. I suppose that with a lot of drive and ambition, she could work to improve her situation--maybe go to school, or try to be promoted (to what?), or find another job (how?)--but that's not going to happen. If she had a lot of drive and ambition, she wouldn't be a cashier at that supermarket to begin with. And considering her extreme shyness, it's hard to believe she'll ever be able to move up or out. She may work there until she's unable to work, and then what?
Yet we see the pompous, arrogant, ever-so-well-fixed politicians in Washington spewing out their garbage to reject universal health care, then awarding trillions to banks and corporations and funding mayhem and murder around the world. How can this be right? How can it be fair? Why does such injustice exist?
Old questions become new when they acquire a face and the face for me is the shy young woman in Shop 'N' Bag.

One of the many things I love about summer--my favorite season--is the comings and goings and getting togethers. Yesterday, after settling Pat, I tooled down to Ventnor to Betty's. She, her friend Suzanne, and her friend, Reinie, and I went to the Greenhouse in Margate for lunch. Interestingly, this is where Reinie met her husband of 30 years, whom she lost just a few months ago.
This spot has a long history. When we were at that after-high- school,-before-marriage age, we used to frequent the downshore bars, the purpose being to meet new guys and/or hang out with ones we knew. We often got thoroughly sloshed and the Greenhouse, along with the Beach Club--long gone--was one of the favored venues for that activity. In those days, it was pretty much a dive, dark and dank, but now it has a terrific big deck overlooking the beach.
Oh, what a pleasure to sit under an umbrella--the sun was fierce, but so welcome--washing down a deliciously rare hamburger with Miller Lite! We were there for several hours, talking and laughing, then I had to leave for home. Good, good day that raised my spirits several notches.

It rained heavily all day. Got to Acme early, then stayed in aside from a late afternoon chat at Marge's. Actually, it was cozy and snug; I read on the couch while Pat followed his present occupation: watching television. Poor guy, he simply can't do anything else physically. Exchanged more phone calls with Visiting Physicians and Community Surgical, which is getting to be my occupation.
Made a date with Peg and Betty for lunch on Wednesday. Betty leaves on Friday--all too short a time to have my sister near.
Jen e-mailed to say she has strepped (? I don't know how to spell it and neither does Blogspot) throat and she and the boys can't be here today. I'm disappointed, but it may be just as well because it remains cloudy and chilly, so not a good day for the pool.
Wider: My brother recently sent around an e-mail about a soldier killed in Iraq. The gist was that it's unseemly to pay so much attention to celebrity deaths (Michael, Farah, Walter), but so little to those "fighting for our freedom." (If I hear that one more time, I'll stick a fork in my eye.) My brother is a good and decent man and certainly, the celebrity worship we constantly see is disgusting. At the same time, I can't help but wonder at what he and others hold in such reverence. Regardless of what else they are--and most human beings are complex creatures--aren't members of the military hired killers? Isn't the reason for their existence to kill? And in our time, don't they often kill not for defense, but aggressively? So what is being promoted here?
These are dreadful questions. I wonder if, in their grief, those who loved the young man in the e-mail ask them. My heart aches for them, but still--don't the questions need to be asked?