The way things are going in this world, and in particular this country, we could all use a diversion. As it used to say in Reader’s Digest, “Laughter is the Best Medicine.” So here is a short scene from Back on the Bike Path (A Jack Miller Senior Moment: Book Four), which I wrote during the pandemic (see?).
The backstory: Jack is off the Bike Path and home for a dose of Reality Time. At the start of the book we learned that his mom, Mrs. Rose Miller Levanthal of Pompano Beach, Florida, has passed away. But her best friend, Sadie Melman, has stayed in touch with Jack…much to his chagrin. Here is the scene:
Do you remember Sadie Melman, my mother’s best friend? Yeah, the Woman of a Thousand Oys. Well, she’s still around, pushing ninety, I think, or maybe surpassing it. I saw her two years ago at Mom’s funeral (“Oy, Meester Miller, oy, I can’t believe she’s gone, maybe I’ll join her soon, oy!”), where she told me that one of her great-grandchildren had managed to teach her how to use a computer and send emails. This was important, she assured me, because with my mother gone, who would keep me up to date on what was happening in Centurion Village? She would, Sadie vowed…and she had, every freaking week since then!
Centurion Village, by the way, is a senior living complex that sprawls across the lower half of Florida and contains a gazillion retirees from every Northeastern state. Okay, I’m exaggerating…just the lower third of the Sunshine State. My mother lived there for many years, and never once did she update me about what went on there. What the hell; I told Sadie that would be fine. Here is just a small portion of today’s email (a thousand typos edited by me):
Oy, Meester Miller, I just got back to my condo from the Songbirds’ Choral Group and oy, did I miss your mama—may she rest in peace—because she loved to sing so much with the others. Oy, I can’t believe it’s been two years that your mama—may she rest in peace—has been gone. Some of the other ladies said the same thing, and they also miss Tobias—may he rest in peace—because he loved listening to us sing, especially your mama—may she rest in peace.
The best news, Meester Miller! Oy, so wonderful! Seymour Rosenberg, who lives near the main entrance of Centurion Village, reported hearing EMT sirens 41 times in the past week, and Shirley Legrofsky, who lives near the residents’ entrance (but the police and the firemen can use it), said she heard 26 EMT sirens. Oy, that’s only 67 calls in the past week, one of the lowest ever! Maybe a few of them passed on—may they rest in peace—but probably most of them are still alive.
My latest.
So the shmendricks who run Centurion Village are going to shut down the swimming pool nearest to me for a couple of days. Oy, and it’s so hot here! It seems that Eileen Brockenstein’s grandson (the younger one) made doody in the pool, and now they have to empty it out and clean it and so on. Oy, you would think they could do that in a few hours so that we could get back to cooling off and doing our water aerobics…
Had enough? That’s about a quarter of Sadie Melman’s normal updates. I usually speed-read them and reply, Thanks, Sadie. That seems to make her happy. Hey, she was a good friend to Rose Miller Leventhal and, as both of them would say, they gave each other lots of nachis.