In the Miami Herald December 4, 2022

                  Gershon Press Rapoport

        September 15, 1984 – November 30, 2022

  Hollywood, Florida – Gershon Press Rapoport, from

Miami Beach, FL, was a beloved son, brother, brother-in-law,

grandson, nephew and cousin who died on November 30, 2022

of a drug overdose. He is survived by his parents

Drs. Shirley Press and William Rapoport and his

sister Sarah Rapoport. Gersh bravely

battled drug addiction for 19 years. He is best

remembered as a gentle soul always

available to help others. He was a talented artist, singer,

lyricist and guitarist. His sense of humor and kindness will be

be deeply missed by all who knew him.

On December 4, 2022, with a broken heart and an empty soul, I gave this eulogy for my son Gershon who died of a drug overdose on November 30, 2022

   I stand here today with a broken heart. I don’t know how I’m going to live on without Gersh. Even though he has been struggling with addiction for 19 years, I was not ready for him to die. I felt so bonded to him through it all. I am devastated.  Gershon had a lot of bad breaks in his life with the drugs taking over – crushing and consuming him. He tried so hard to beat the addiction over 19 years with the detoxes, rehabs, counseling, halfway houses and sober living. He even helped others with the same problems. However, he never seemed to be able to get ahead and turn it around. As the years went on, his friends deserted him, jobs didn’t work out and relationships failed. Through it all, he still tried and persisted. He was upbeat and always had another plan. Sometimes he was angry, blamed others for his fate in life and was depressed. And the drugs like a cancer got him in the end. Now I feel this emptiness that will never leave. I have to tell myself that Gersh lived a full 38 years.

   Let’s go back. We named our beautiful boy Gershon after my father Gershon who died in 1970. As a baby, he and Sarah were the cutest. They hung out together since the get go. They were bonded. They were joined.  A blond hair, blue eyed gorgeous child, he was charming and  a ladies’ man from the start. I remember him at three years of age telling me over and over again, “Mommy, you’re so pretty.” At age five, Gershon was chosen to be in a feature article about children’s names in the Miami Herald.  He had good times with friends in school, Hebrew School, camp and traveling. He had talent in art and played a mean guitar. Gersh did a spectacular job along with Sarah on their B’nai Mitzvah. In addition, he along with his band members performed a few cool songs at the event. Many of you here today attended their B’nai Mitzvah and have been in our lives forever. His Bubbie, my mother, was especially proud of him. Gershon and Sarah were such stars and made a fantastic team. In those years we also went to NJ many times to see our family. We spent many times walking the boardwalk in Atlantic City where he had many an adventure. He once made $100 for skinny dipping on a dare in the Atlantic Ocean. And he also met a variety of characters. He had a flair for fashion and always looked the part. Sometimes he was a character. As a teen, he would go to Johnny Rockets in South Beach and claim it was his birthday every three months until the manager got wise. By the same token, he would repeatedly get a lot of free samples from Sephora until they booted him out of the store. As a family we traveled to St. Thomas a few years ago where he loved to shop and haggle in the open markets.   Unfortunately, he had a propensity for accidents whether they involved his car, e-bike, scooter or skateboard. He was always getting banged up.

  Gersh had many different jobs. He worked as a painter, a stocker, a plumber’s assistant which naturally he hated saying it was too shitty, a roofer despite the fact he was afraid of heights, a driver and he also worked in Macy’s fulfillment center. Plus, he had some underworld jobs.

  While in rehab, he wrote songs, poetry and verse in his journals. He wrote, “I am worthy because I am a good and caring person. I am worthy because I never give up even through the hardest and toughest of times I’ve had in my life. I am worthy of having another dance in life and to better myself to have a good life.” Yes, definitely you were worthy, Gersh. He also wrote, “This addiction has got to break. It’s cost me so much pain.”

In another journal I found that he wrote about his desperation about a friend who died,

“Four years ago my girl got put in the ground.

Her war is over, Now she’s safe and sound

I wish she could look down on me and be so proud

But that’s not the case because I’m going down, down, down

Wanna hear something that’s so damn sick

I look at her picture as I take a hit

Hoping my heart will stop and I will fall

We could start a new life where we stand tall

Not going down, down, down

I already been here 3 damn times

Obviously, something ain’t right cuz I’m still not fine

Maybe I’m that sicker one or I don’t wanna

Stop, maybe I’ll keep on running until I drop

Going down, down, down

So I admit ya I need some help

Cuz I tried many times to do it myself

And I’ll admit ya I’m not that tough

Cuz one to many a thousand is never enough”

He truly wanted to beat it but in the end the drugs killed him. Addiction is a disease. It’s a monster.  I learned that I didn’t cause it, couldn’t control it and couldn’t cure it. And that proved true in Gershon’s case.

   Unlike a lot of mothers and sons, we spoke every day and saw each other often – shopping, talking, quarreling and eating. Every night Gershon texted me “Goodnight Mom. I love you.” and likewise I texted him back. I never gave up on you, Gershon. On the night he died, I didn’t receive a text. I was hoping, “He’s 38 and he doesn’t need to text me every night.” The next morning he didn’t pick his phone and then we found him. It was the saddest day of my life. Gershon’s struggles and suffering are over. Ours continues. My hope that things would get better is gone forever.  

 Rest in peace my beloved son. I will always love you.

Love you forever,

Mom

7/17/2022

Thank you all for coming to our mother’s unveiling. We appreciate it from the bottom of our hearts.  It’s been a tough road without you, Mom. I think about you a lot and how we miss you and also think about what you’ve missed – what has been going on in our families – the naches and the tsurus. In the last few years Maddie had a son Simon, in addition to Luna, your first grandchild, Sarah, your granddaughter was married and your grandson Gershon eluded death three times from drug overdoses. I know that if you were well, you’d know just what to do and say having endured your own horrible struggles in life.

 Our mother Leah was cherished by everyone – her family, friends, colleagues, etc.  Seeing the tremendous love and support for our  mom before and after she died is gratifying. We are a small family but we are a closed knit bunch. Our mom inspired and influenced us through her love, devotion and actions. Barb and I were her bright lights after a life of horrors surviving the concentration camps in the Holocaust. She loved us without bounds. She was remarkable, smart and driven even after all she had been through – learning English impeccably , getting married, having children, working in my fathers  grocery store, becoming a teacher and a PTA president and being active at her synagogue. As all of you know, she was the most gracious and kind person. She was the OG original bubbly “hostess with the mostess.” People would drop by our house all the time to eat, schmooze and mainly to see Leah. It was her power of compassion. Even though we had very little, my mother was always giving of herself and she always made time for everyone. We remember her packing up our hand-me-downs and routinely shipping them off to Israel in the early days. One time she was generous to a fault. I went to pick her up at Beth EL and noticed another teacher wearing a skirt similar to one I had. When I got home, I realized that that was my skirt. My mother just figured I didnt need it anymore.

We had fun times too. Our mom, Tanti, Philip, Bev, Barb and I, with Hashel and Gershon on the weekends, would spend a month in Atlantic City in this dumpy boarding house without a phone. We called it Hotel Dropsie. In later years, Mom, Tanti, Frieda Levy and I would go back to Atlantic City to play the slots.

We had good times and we had tragic times. Your unconditional love will inspire us for our lifetimes. You were the best there is.      

With unending love,

 Shirley and Barbara

As I am getting older…  I am 70 which is a hard number to digest because I don’t feel like what I think 70 should feel like. I feel younger like I when I was 40 or 50. Regardless, as things in my life are slipping away, I am spending more time on FB to connect. Many factors play into this – Covid and staying home, not going out, people dying, people moving away, friendships fading or dissolving without new ones to take their place. And I appreciate every like and comment people make on my posts

1/17/2021

Eulogy for My Mother – Leah Kalina

Thank you for being here today in person or virtually. “Mom, you would be glad to know that I’m standing up straight and that I combed my hair.” These are two things that my mother harped on me about all of my life. Her special gift in life was connecting with people and my mother would have been delighted to know how many relatives and friends have come here today or are viewing this or will connect with us after the funeral to remember her. Already we have had many, many condolences.  No matter where my mother went, she had the ability to connect. Her life was one of tragedy and triumph of the human spirit.

Our mother was born Lenke Grüenberg on September 14, 1929, the second oldest of four sisters of Eli (aka Illes) Gruenberg and Sheindel (aka Zseni) Schwimmer Gruenberg in Čierny Potok, CZ close to the Carpathian Mountains. Our Tante Ruchel was the oldest. Her father was a businessman who owned a farm and maybe a mill. My mother remembers Čierny Potok as an idyllic small town where everyone knew each other. “There was no place I would rather be.” My mother and her sisters adored their mother, Sheindel. “I thought nobody in this world had such a mother as we did,” she said, remembering her as a gentle woman who never raised her voice. She said, “I would rather be with her than any of my friends.”

Tragedy: The nightmare of our mother’s life began at age 14, on April 9, 1944, the second day of Passover. At that time, the Hungarians, who were in collaboration with the Germans, controlled the town. Policemen warned the town’s few Jews against celebrating Passover, but the family went ahead. My mother, in her Shoah Foundation tape, said it was a very different Passover from the usual happy occasion; tense and frightening. “The worst part was when I saw tears streaming down his (her father’s) face. I knew something was very wrong,” she said. “I never saw him cry before that time. He knew it would probably be our last Passover.” The next day the police forcibly removed them from their modest home and sent them to the Mukačevo ghetto in Hungary. “’Dad said ‘Take food; make sure you are taking food.’ ”

On May 11, 1944, after a month in Mukačevo, they were transported to Auschwitz by rail in a locked cattle car crammed wall-to-wall. “We had no idea where we were going,” my mother recalls. “I remember looking through this tiny window (in the cattle car) and seeing the green grass and thinking, ‘how beautiful the world is, but not for us.’ It was the second time I saw my father cry.”

At the camp, those assigned to the right were selected for work, at least temporarily. People deemed too old, young, feeble or too weak to work were assigned to the left and slaughtered. Her parents and sister Malka, the youngest at age 8, were murdered in the gas chambers right after their arrival.

“We arrived at night,” my mother said. “There is no way to express the feeling on arrival to Auschwitz.”  “They took away the most precious thing in my life, my mother – she was only 42 years old – and my precious sister Malka,” my mother said.

My mother and her sisters, Ruchel and Bluma, were sent to the barracks after their heads were shaved, the first step in the dehumanization process. “My sister was right in front of me and I didn’t recognize her,” my mother said. No one could escape the sight of flames and smell of smoke coming from the crematoria. My mother remembers her shock when she first encountered the emaciated, hollow-eyed children in the barracks. When the other girls in the barracks told her that her sister and parents and were almost certainly already up in smoke, my mother recalls how “We just cried and cried and cried.”

At Auschwitz, survival was the only goal. My mother, Ruchel and Bluma were assigned to digging ditches. “We gave each other some kind of hope; we will get out of here, we will make it. They could never take away from me my will to live and my faith in God, though I was very angry with God,” she said.

Every day meant standing in formation for hours. Every day there was a selection. They always took somebody. Each morning my mother and her sisters would pinch their cheeks to look healthy enough to work though they were being starved and the hunger was constant. Each day they would be given soup, one piece of black bread and a little butter. “It’s the kind of hunger that there is nothing in this world you would not give for a piece of bread,” my mother said. One day, she impulsively ran out of the barracks door with her food container when she saw the people with the soup cauldron approaching. She was lucky not to have been beaten to death then and there. She was forced to kneel for hours on gravel.

A few weeks later, they were moved to Plaszow, the concentration camp portrayed in Schindler’s List. This camp was actually worse than Auschwitz. Lice were rampant. They labored 12 hours a day hauling stones. There were savage, unpredictable shootings and beatings. German shepherds dogged their heels, ready to attack if someone fell.

Sadly, Bluma, my mother’s younger sister was weakening. To try to conserve energy, the sisters would try and hide a piece of bread from their rations to eat later. One day, when the sisters were looking for the stash, they discovered it was gone. A girl came crying to them, “I took it,” she sobbed. They all began crying. “Imagine, four kids crying over one piece of bread,” said my mother.

Then in August 1944, they were transported back to Auschwitz. On August 11, 1944, the number, A-21653 was tattooed on her left arm. After arrival, there was another selection. It was overseen by Dr. Joseph Mengele, the infamous Nazi “Angel of Death.” And the worst happened. Bluma was selected.

“With one nod, they took Bluma up,” my mother remembers. “Bluma screamed to us ‘please don’t let me go.’ ” Ruchel tried to intercede, begging Mengele to let Bluma go. According to a tape made by Ruchel, he said to her, “Go back in line because you will die like a dog too.”

In the fall of 1944, my mother and her sister Ruchel were transferred to Bergen-Belsen. She said the stench of the dead bodies was awful. After Bergen-Belsen, their last camp was Buchenwald, which she and Ruchel entered December 17, 1944. For the final months, my mother was placed in a subcamp called Markkleeberg.

Finally, with the Allies invading from all sides, my mother, her sister and about 2,000 others were sent on a death march to Theresienstadt in northern Czechoslovakia. Fewer than 200 would survive. It was during the march that my mother escaped. They were forced to walk nonstop, with just an hour or so of sleep each night. They were given a piece of bread at the beginning of each day, then nothing. After about two weeks, my mother saw a field of freshly planted potatoes. On impulse, the same kind of impulse that sent her out for extra soup, she darted into the field.

“There I go again,” she stated in her Shoah testimony, “I’m thinking, ‘I’m just going to dig up the plants and come right back.’ ” But she fainted and when she came to, the others were gone. “I woke up and there were three potatoes and no one but G-d was with me. Those three potatoes were the best food I ever had.”

Our mother soon met up with two other death march escapees. She told us that upon liberation, she weighed approximately 70 pounds and she is 5 feet 3 inches tall. She just began walking and walking.

After the war, my mother learned that Ruchel had made it alive to Theresienstadt. Eventually, they reunited in Čierny Potok, their hometown. When they returned to the town, they found that their house had been turned into a small school. They were given a room, but it was clear there was no future there. “At that time I was very surprised the people in the town were not happy to see us,” my mother said.

She went to work in Prague as a babysitter and then worked in a bakery. In 1946 she and her sister were placed in a series of displaced persons camps through the Joint Distribution Committee. At first, in the DP camps, people talked about their experiences. Then they stopped. “We had the incentive to build a new life, the incentive to work hard, not hating people,” she said

The last DP camp was DP Camp Deggendorf in Germany. My mother described this as “heaven” compared to the concentration camps. The survivors were given plenty of food and my mother described herself as a “blimp” for that period of her life. She had her own cot. In the camp there were also cultural and social events and schooling. My mother attended the dressmaking school sponsored by ORT, the Jewish educational and vocational training organization. She remembered going to lectures on Zionism and joined the Betar Movement which was a Zionist youth organization for a while. There was a makeshift synagogue and medical facilities. Life moved forward for many as there were many marriages and babies born there. My Aunt Ruchel married her husband Hashel there in a hand-me-down wedding gown. My mother and her sister Ruchel possessed an inner strength when challenged by tragedy.

Our mother was able to obtain a “child’s visa” and immigrated to the United States alone. HIAS also participated in this process. She began her journey to the United States on October 15, 1947, also at the port of Bremen, Germany aboard the “Ernie Pyle.” When my mother arrived in New York, her name was Lenke. She changed it to Leah shortly thereafter. Her American relatives, who were her sponsors, Uncle Louis and Aunt Zina Schwimmer, met her in New York.

Triumph: Our mother was unflinching and extraordinary. In the six years from 1945 until 1951 in which she lost her parents, her two sisters, her home, her education, her teenage years and survived four concentration camps and a DP camp, she then  came to the US, where she went to night school, learned English, married my father and started a family-me and Barb in 1953. That’s courage.

It was at a lecture in 1948 in Philadelphia at the Bellevue-Stratford Hotel where Moshe Sharett, the first Minister of Foreign Affairs from Israel, was speaking where my mother first met my father. He went because of his passion for history – especially Russian and Jewish history. Dad was talking too loudly; my mother turned around and told him to be quiet. As they say, this was the beginning of a beautiful romance. Tragedy struck again when our father died in 1970 due to a massive stroke.

Barb and I heard all our lives how beautiful, gracious and lovely our mother was and it was absolutely true. All of our friends like to hang out at our house in Cherry Hill – mostly because of Mom. She made everyone feel welcomed and she was also a fantastic cook. Because of her background she got carried away and would always say, “Eat, my children. Eat. Eat or Essen mein kinder.” It’s a wonder that we turned out thin. She was the consummate host. No one ever left her house hungry. No one. She took a real interest in everyone and always saw the good in people.

   Triumph: We remember some of her achievements as becoming the PTA president at Parkside School. She also worked in our father’s grocery store, became a preschool teacher and started talking to school children about her life and the Holocaust. My mother could have the children and teenagers relate to her as she was only 14 herself when she was taken to the camps. She also has her legacy documented in the Shoah Foundation’s videotapes. Her last years were difficult but she faced them with grace and quiet dignity. I remember the lessons she taught me. One example: my mother came with me to a pediatrics conference and we were invited to sit with my chairman as we walked by his table. We spoke for about 10 minutes and then Mom announced that we had to go. Naively, I asked her where we were going? She said, “Nowhere, you never want to wear out your welcome.” Another time the two of us were driving to Atlantic City. We and my Tante Ruchel all loved to gamble. It was 2008 and I was supposed to drive. When we got into the car, she stated that she wanted to drive, so I let her. It was a somewhat harrowing experience. She told me that this was something she always wanted to do and she was doing it. She was a life time learner and bold. My mother, Barb and I had good times working in the store, going to Litt Brothers, attending the NY World’s Fair and many other journeys.

We remember you as a wonderful mother, the best Bubbie, loving wife, devoted sister, doting aunt, warm cousin, vibrant friend, caring teacher and courageous Holocaust survivor.  Above all, we will be remembered for your loving devotion to our family. You were always so reassuring and supportive of us. Mom, we’re going to miss you immensely. Thank you for everything you’ve given us – the love and the bonds we shared during your precious time on earth. You touched many lives. We love you. You’ll always be in our hearts.

All right, Bill Gates, aren’t you famous enough? Do you really need another blog or whatever to keep yourself in the limelight? But since I’m struggling with my own blog, I signed up for your gatesnotes just to check it out. I must say, it is impressive, actually very impressive. Of course, you have a team working on it which most of us don’t have. However, the pieces you write yourself are exemplary. So keep it up and I hope you don’t mind if I model some of my blogs after your writings.

On March 26, 1953, American medical researcher Dr. Jonas Salk On March 26, 1953. Dr. Jonas Salk announced that he had successfully tested a vaccine against polio. Coronavirus COVID-19 and polio are very different viruses. However, they both are deadly. In 1952, the worst year of the polio epidemic, there were 58,000 cases in the US, 21,259, mostly children, were paralyzed and 3145 deaths occurred. In 1955 the vaccine became widely available. (Baby Boomers can remember this.) I’m optimistic that we can also discover a vaccine for COVID-19 without delay. The photo below is of children participating in clinical trials for the polio vaccine in 1954.

For the last two weeks, I’ve been staying at home because of the Corona virus Covid-19. I’m been doing my daily routines plus I added three additional people per day to talk or text with. Today I received a notice from Apple that I spent an average of almost five hours a day in the past week on my phone. What? That can’t be. But Apple isn’t wrong. They track you. My daily routine includes reading two newspapers: The Miami Herald (online in addition to print) and The New York Times online – estimated time one hour. I spend probably another  hour going through my email and reading on the phone. Then there’s Facebook, Instagram, Linked-in, Google, CNN, Twitter, photos, the weather, the plunging stock market, playing bridge, texting, phone calls and misc. So thinking about this, it all adds up. I definitely need to streamline some of this. Does this count as another  unfulfilled New Year’s resolution?

I’m mixed about not going to Woodstock. It was right before I was going to college and I was living at home in Cherry Hill, NJ. My parents wouldn’t let me go. Too dangerous, they said.  So I just accepted this fact. It turned out not to be dangerous at all. No real serious crime. Reports state that there were only a dozen police officers for the 400,000-500,000 who attended. Can you imagine this today? There were three deaths: two from overdoses and one guy was run over by a tractor. It was a happening of peace, love and music. However, there was too much crowding, rain, mud, sewage, traffic jams, drugs and garbage and too little food and bathrooms. On one hand, I missed the greatest musical event of all time. On the other hand, I would have been miserable. Still, I would have liked the bragging rights of having been there.

I added two more libraries to my New York City Library list which now totals 16

These four female pilots leaving their ship at the four engine school at Lockbourne are members of a group of WASPS who have been trained to ferry the B-17 Flying Fortresses. (U.S. Air Force photo)

Although this is a topic for articles and books, I’ll try my best to sum it up in a blog. Recently I read an article in Smithsonian Magazine about the Verona Project, a counterintelligence project during WWII, that was started by women and where 90% of the code-breakers during the war were women.

Nearly 350,000 American women served in uniform during WWII, both at home and abroad, volunteering for the newly formed Women’s Army Auxiliary Corps (WAACs, later renamed the Women’s Army Corps), the Navy Women’s Reserve (WAVES), the Marine Corps Women’s Reserve, the Coast Guard Women’s Reserve (SPARS), the Women Airforce Service Pilots (WASPS), the Army Nurses Corps, and the Navy Nurse Corps. General Eisenhower acknowledged the vital role of the women in uniform. Women in uniform took office and clerical jobs in the armed forces in order to free men to fight. They also drove trucks, repaired airplanes, worked as laboratory technicians, rigged parachutes, served as radio operators, analyzed photographs, flew military aircraft across the country, test-flew newly repaired planes, and even trained anti-aircraft artillery gunners by acting as flying targets

Both the Army and the American public initially had difficulty accepting the concept of women in uniform. Although they were non-combat positions, many were commissioned officers were sent to specialized schools for training in communications, supply, the Japanese language, meteorology, and engineering

Five million women entered the workforce between 1940-1945. More well-known were the women who worked in factories where men had previously worked. Rosie the riveter became an icon representing the women who worked in factories and shipyards. As an aside, Rosie’s counterpart in Great Britain were the female forestry workers, known as  lumberjills.

Many other opportunities opened up such as chemists and engineers developing weapons for the war. This included thousands of women who were recruited to work on the Manhattan Project, developing the atomic bomb.

After the war, it was over for most working women. Social commentators worried that when men returned from military service there would be no jobs available for them, and admonished women to return to their “rightful place” in the home as soon as victory was at hand. Although as many as 75% of women reported that they wanted to continue working after World War II, women were laid off  (fired) in large numbers at the end of the war. Women lost footing in the work place so men could resume their roles there. Many of the women did “retired” into housewives and mothers. It would take decades to make up for lost ground.

I took an interest in Luke Perry’s life and death. He died on March 4, 2019 of a massive stroke at the age of 52. The reason for this interest was that my father also died suddenly of a massive stroke at the age of 48. One of his daughters is 18, the same age as I was in 1970 when my father died. I must admit that I was only slightly familiar with Luke’s life and his work, so naturally I “Googled” him. I am impressed that he had auditioned for 256 acting jobs before receiving his first acceptance. That’s the definition of perseverance. Rest in peace.

Scandals fascinate and dishearten me. Recently there has been a plethora of them. Leaving Neverland aired on January 25 and 26 on HBO about Michael Jackson’s sexual abuse of young boys, Jussie Smollett’s alleged attack on Jan, 29, 2019 (charges were dropped March 26, 2019) and United States federal prosecutors disclosed Operation Varsity Blues, the college admissions cheating scandal on March 12, 2019. These in addition to the Harvey Weinstein and Bill Cosby shocking and despicable actions of the past few years cause me outrage. Why, why, why and can we learn anything from them? I wish there would be some answers.

Yesterday I was meeting friends for lunch. I realized I was going to be a few minutes late and I texted so. This is acceptable behavior. It’s not right but it’s very common. Before cell phones entered our lives,  I would not have been tardy. I would have left extra early to be there on time. Just another subtle effect of having cell phones.

I like to think of myself as unique. However, after reading Lisa Haney’s article in the AARP Magazine February/March 2019 edition entitled “They Won’t Kill You But They Sure Make You Miserable,” I feel so typical. She writes about 8 conditions that are not “medical calamities” but cause a lot of pain. Four of these conditions I can attest to: urinary tract infections, kidney stones, migraine headaches and intense shoulder pain. The others, so far I’ve been spared, are shingles, benign prostatic hyperplasia – not going to happen, gout and fibromyalgia. Like I’ve said before, getting older sucks.

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This week I was at a local racino which is a combination of a racetrack and a casino.  All of a sudden the PA system came on and made the following announcement, “Will ‘John Smith’ come to the front of the casino? Your party is waiting for you.” I was thinking that I haven’t heard this type of broadcast in years. And of course the answer is obvious – it’s the cell phone. When we can’t find each other, we just use our phone to track down each other. Another cultural thing made obsolete by new technology.

This year is the 20^th anniversary of my owning a cell phone. To say it changed my life and countless others is an understatement. It’s revolutionary. The cell phone, the personal computer and the Internet are, in my estimation, the great inventions ever. Well maybe, electricity. The big ways are obvious but I was thinking about more obscure small ways.  Today I read that there were 6227 pedestrian fatalities in 2018 which is an increase of 250 over 2017. It has increased 41% since 2008. Wow! People looking at their cell phones and not the traffic had a great impact on this devastating reality.

I know it is pretty late for a New Year’s Resolution. My last year’s one was partially successful. I vowed to write more blogs which I did. I wrote 12 for the year 2018 up from 8 in 2017. This year I plan to go through my family’s old photos and documents and put them on a flash drive for the future. It’s a big job and I have to be in the right mindset.

I added two more libraries to the New York City Library list which now totals 16.

Lists

And I also updated my Celebrities Unique Names list which now totals 459.

Lists

I am getting older and it sucks. I’m 67 and sometimes I feel 80 and other times I feel like I did at 40. I have a number of common physical woes. As a list maker, here they are.

Chronic:

Hair thinning

Face and neck wrinkling

Balance is off

Generalized aches and pains

High cholesterol – on a statin medication

Osteopenia – on medication

Feeling tired – taking vitamins and estrogen

Arthritis in hands

New Problems in the Last Six Months

Cataracts Stage 1

Tooth Abscess requiring incision, drainage and a root canal

Left shoulder rotator cuff tear

And then there is the fear of getting even older.  I’m the oldest physician in my group. I try hard not to be grumpy or depressed about aging.  Also I am trying to keep my brain sharp to ward off dementia.  So as Robert Crumb stated way back in 1968,  I “Keep on truckin.”

Every so often I get complimented on my skin. People remarked that it’s youthful looking for my age and that it’s smooth. Then they ask how do I do it? Part of the answer is genetics. My mother still has beautiful skin and she’s 89. The other part of the answer is my skin care regimen. Yes, it’s a lot of work. Below, I’ve listed what I do.

Mornings                                Nights                                     Weekly

Serum with SPF                       Astringent or cleanser           Face mask – Vit. C or glycolic acid

Face cream with SPF              Toner                                         Exfoliating cleanser

BB cream                                     Serum with Vitamin C

Foundation with SPF              Eye serum

Face cream

Eye cream

Porcelana

Retinoid cream

Is it working? All I can say is that I think so.

I went to a dinner at my cousin’s house two nights ago. There were 12 adults and two young children there. Topics discussed were current events like the US Tennis Open, politics, restaurants and TV. With one exception, no one was watching the same shows. There was no common culture in what we watch. So instead of discussing a TV series, we were informing the others about what we view. The quality of TV is definitely better these days i.e. shows like Games of Thrones, The Big Bang Theory, Homeland and NCIS. However, there are too many shows, too many channels, too many networks and therefore too many choices to make. We lack the commonality of Monday mornings at work from 1978-1991 when it seemed like everyone watched Dallas and it was the hot topic with JR Ewing being the common villain. I felt sorry for the poor souls who didn’t see it. If you missed it on Friday night, you missed it. That was it. There were none of these modern conveniences to watch a show on your time. I miss those days

It’s hard to accept aging. I’m now 67 and look at my reflection in the mirror and think, “Who’s that?” In most ways, I feel 40ish. A month ago I got into a shouting match with a UPS driver who was speeding in my neighborhood. He called me an old lady. That was worse than his offense of speeding. In contrast, today I took a photography course at the Apple Store in my nearby mall. The other person taking the course was a man about 70-75 years of age. He called me a “young lady.” My first thought was doesn’t he realize we’re about the same age? Then my lingering thought is – is this the last time in my life that I will be referred to as such?

Every so often, I see a movie that has an enormous effect on me. Three Identical Strangers is one of those movies. It is about identical triplets who were maliciously and unconscionably separated after birth by an adoption agency involved in an experiment separating identical twins. And then the triplets (their jackpot) came along. It was a research study designed to answer the question of nurture vs. nature. But to deprive these people of a lifelong sibling is horrible. And they did suffer. Filmed as a documentary with some reenactments. Excellent. I was crying during some of the scenes. Very gripping and moving.

I am hooked on Dollar Tree. There’s one located about 1.5 miles from my house and I find myself shopping there approximately once every two weeks. To me, it’s like a treasure hunt. Every item is a dollar. Since I enjoy creating lists, below is my Top 10 list of what I find to be Dollar Tree Deals.

1.Hallmark cards

2.Snyder pretzels

3.Mead envelopes

4.Crazy Glue

5. Helium balloons

6. Yardley soap

7. Dermasil lotion

8. Normal saline nose drops

9. Garden stakes

10.Hangers

I got hooked on the TV series “The Americans.” The series finale aired on May 30, 2018 after six seasons and I feel like I’ve lost a good friend. It was different from other shows in that the main characters Philip and Elizabeth were married Russian spies living in the US. Since they were groomed for the job from the time they were children, they spoke with no accent. I knew they were the bad guys but the viewers were made to like and sympathize with their situation. The finale was brilliant. No violence which had permeated the series was there. However, a lot of people lost out including Philip and Elizabeth and their children. It was heartbreaking. Yet why was I so vested in a show? It just struck a chord with me and many others. Even The New York Times wrote a weekly recap on many of its shows and the series finale received three long articles analyzing the show and its effect. I feel TV used to unite us. “Everyone” watched Leave it to Beaver, The Ed Sullivan Show, The Fugitive and Dallas to give some examples. Now with so many choices, people aren’t watching the same shows. Less to talk about and to discuss. So much for so many options.

Many years ago I used to surf the web looking for interesting websites. In late 1994, I found the White House website and thought that it was the coolest thing I had ever seen. I remember showing it to the medical students and residents that I worked with and they were equally enthralled. Fast forward 24 years and the websites come to you by email. The sheer number of website is astounding. The following is from Wikipedia “After reaching 1 billion websites in September 2014, a milestone confirmed by NetCraft in its October 2014 Web Server Survey and that Internet Live Stats was the first to announce—as attested by this tweet from the inventor of the World Wide Web himself, Tim Berners-Lee—the number of websites in the world has subsequently declined, reverting to a level below 1 billion. This is due to the monthly fluctuations in the count of inactive websites. The number of websites again grew to over 1 billion in March 2016, and has continued growing since.”

 One of my favorites is AtlasObsura.com. which is all about curious and wondrous travel focusing on the unusual and the obscure. It’s a mix of  historic and modern times. I check its atlas of New York City before each of my visits there. The guide features “hidden” New York which outlines 281 cool and unusual things to do in the city. Check it out.

My hospital, Jackson Memorial Hospital in Miami, Florida, was founded by Dr. James Jackson in 1918. There are so few institutions (and people) that are 100 or more years old. When it opened, Jackson Memorial Hospital had 13 beds and a few employees. Today it has 2100 beds and 12,000 full-time employees. Its vision has always remained the same; providing quality care to all those in need. Now with any big institution there are problems. I actually enjoy ragging about Jackson. We’re overworked, it’s overcrowded and the food is lousy. After my husband’s life was saved there in 2008, I kept a lid on the kvetching for a while. And we were in a position to donate to the hospital, so I became an active board member of the Jackson Health Foundation, the fundraising arm of the hospital. Below is a photo of my husband, my daughter, Keith Tribble, the CEO of the Foundation and me at the hospital’s 100^th anniversary gala. I was in a whimsical mood that night wearing a headband with the numbers “100” rising from it.

The Mindset Lists   https://www.beloit.edu/mindset/2021  are written by Ron Nief, Public Affairs Director Emeritus, Tom McBride, Professor of English and Keefer Professor of Humanities, both at Beloit College in Beloit, Wisconsin. It originated in 1997. It is a list of what incoming freshmen of the year know and don’t know. Examples from the Mindset List of the Class of 2021 include the following:

#2  They are the last class to be born in the 1900s, the last of the Millennials —  enter

next year, on cue, Generation Z! 

#3  They are the first generation for whom a “phone” has been primarily a video game,

direction finder, electronic telegraph, and research library.

#59 Bill Clinton has always been Hillary Clinton’s aging husband.

The previous Mindset Lists are available on the website. They are a reminder to me of how

fast the world is changing.

I thought I posted all the time especially the year (2013) my book was published. Sort of  true. I did post a lot relative to the subsequent years. Below is a summary of 2013-17

Summary of blogposts on Shirleypress.com

Year   

2013         69 posts

2014           8 posts

2015           6 posts

2016           8 posts

2017           8 posts

Numbers tell all. The first year I wrote 69 posts which is only 1.33 posts/week.  It was all downhill from there. This year I will try for two posts a week.

This is what I wrote in January, 2017. “I’m going to try to be realistic and make only two resolutions. The first is that I am going to starting blogging again and the second is to lose at least five pounds.  I tell myself to keep on truckin’. Time with tell.” Well, I didn’t achieve either.  I am a broken clock. I only posted 8 blogs for the year and I didn’t lose any weight.  My new New Year’s resolutions for 2018 – the same. Hopefully, this year I’ll be more successful.

I just started watching The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel a new series on Amazon Prime. It’s a comedy drama set in the late 1950’s about a Jewish housewife in New York City who has it all – a husband, two children and a fabulous apartment on the Upper West Side. It all comes crashing down one day when her husband leaves her for his secretary. Mrs. Maisel then inadvertently discovers that she has a hidden talent of being a standup comedian which her ex-husband aspired to be himself. It’s heartwarming and funny. On watching the first episode, I thought this is as good as any Broadway show.

When I first heard about self-driving cars a few years ago, I thought, “What do we need this for?”  However, I’ve made a 180 degree turn on this concept. With so many of us baby boomers having medical problems and physical limitations like poor vision, arthritis, poor circulation and slower brains, our diving ability can be compromised. Besides doing the physical and mental work of driving, another positive is the computer that is driving the car will not become distracted  i.e. drugs, alcohol, phone calls, talking and texting. More than 80% of car accidents are caused by human error, so theoretically self-driving cars will be safer. On the downside, it is new technology and there will be a learning curve. And of course, computers can occasionally fail. To me, the need is real and I say, “Bring them on!”

I read a lot of journals and magazines. Among the best ones I receive is Smithsonian published by the Smithsonian Institute. In the December 2017 issue, they report on the new Los Angles Museum of Failure. Besides having a soft spot for the name, the article highlights inventions and ideas that bombed. Who can’t relate to that? Also in the issue is a feature on John Legend, an account of  the worst journey in the world about Apsley Cherry-Garrad’s 1911 ill-fated expedition to Antarctica and a article on Julia, Sesame Street’s newest character who has autism.

I was thinking about who have been our oldest presidents. It turns out it was Gerald Ford who died at 93 years and 165 days. Next was Ronald Reagan  at 93 yrs. and 120 days. George H. W. Bush is third and as of today Sept. 2, 2017, he is 93 yrs. and 82 days old. Only 38 days to go to tie with Reagan and 84 days to go to beat Ford.

Since my 66th birthday last month, I am on a mission to de-clutter my life. I started with my closet which not only contains my clothes and accessories but also gifts, books, my children’s old clothes and a lot more. After I was finished, I would estimate that approximately 40% was donated to Goodwill. Not only can I now clearly see every item, I have an overall feeling of satisfaction. Next project???

In some states, lottery winners can be remain anonymous. The Texas House of Representatives has as of April 24, 2017 tentatively approved a new bill that would protect the identity of lottery winners whose jackpots are over one million dollars. Six states – Delaware, Kansas, Maryland, North Dakota, Ohio and South Carolina allow winners to remain anonymous. There are two sides to this issue. One is that the public deserves to know where and to whom their money is being spent which could reduce transparency and decrease ticket sales. The other is that lottery winners are in jeopardy when their identities are known. They can be under social media scrutiny, unwanted attention and target of criminals. I feel that lottery winners should be protected.

I was delighted to give a talk about my book “Pressing My Luck” last week. I hadn’t been invited to speak for over a year. Interest in my book peaked in the first year and a half after it was published in June, 2013. I sold a total of 1254 books (print and Kindle) of which 84% were sold in the first seven months. This is what I expected. So to have interest in it three and a half years later was a pleasant surprise.

Book Talk # 18 with my friend Gail Wigetman Rice who introduced me.

I’m going to try to be realistic and make only two resolutions. The first is that I am going to starting blogging again and the second is to lose at least five pounds.  I tell myself to “keep on truckin’.” Time with tell.

I have been remiss in writing posts on my blog. It’s been over a month. I, like others, am motivated by deadlines. For example, I wrote my book over a period of a few years. I had procrastinated publishing it because it could always be better. So I kept “working” on it and delaying. When the Katie Couric Show asked me to be a guest on its show, I knew I had to get it self-published immediately. This was the deadline I needed. So within three weeks, I did what I had to do to have “Pressing My Luck” available on Amazon and other websites.

David Bowie died Jan. 10, 2016 at the age of 69, Garry Shandling died March 24 at 66, Patty Duke on March 29 at 69 and Prince on April 21 at age 57.  All too young to die. As I get older, these ages don’t seem so old. I think the only one who anticipated his death was David Bowie who was suffering with cancer. The others had unexpected deaths. So what’s the point? You never know. So as that old, trite adage states – you have to live life to its fullest. I try to do this. Each day, I try to do something for others, something for myself and try to check off items on my “to do” list. Not that I am successful every day but I take a crack at it.

I realized that I had not included Prince in my list of celebrities with unique names. I don’t know how I missed such an amazing artist. The updated list can be found under Projects and then scroll down to the Unique Celebrity Names list. It now includes 402 names. Sometimes I feel it a Sisyphean task to keep it current.

This is a short story I wrote that my friend Dr. Eva Ritvo posted on her new website www.bekindr.com It is about the kindness of a stranger that came to my son’s rescue when he was about to bolt from entering rehab. http://www.bekindr.com/bekindr-story-addiction-and-the-gift-of-a-roomate/

Silhouette of helping hand of a friend.

Every once in awhile a new TV show comes along and is so unique that I must comment on it. “Join or Die with Craig Ferguson” is one of these shows. It airs on Thursday nights on the History Channel. It is a hybrid of history and entertainment. One topic is chosen each week such as history’s worst medical advice or history’s worst political blunders. Then the panel made up of a professor, a comedian and an actor discusses six examples of the topic. At the end the panel of “experts” along with the audience picks the winner. By the way the show’s name comes from a political cartoon by Benjamin Franklin. Witty, funny and fast paced.

Change is good I tell myself. So while my first website launched in January, 2013 was fine, I felt it needed a face lift. My new website is now more streamlined and easier to read mainly because there is less to read. Why? I, along with many others, have noticed that attention spans are declining. I think of Moore’s Law which, in a simplified version, states that overall processing power for computers doubles every two years. In homage to Dr. Moore, my law states that attention span halves every two years. So for me, less is more. My plans are to add a new blog post once a week. So check back when you can. And I hope you enjoy my new website. Thanks for your support.

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