My Christmas and New Year Memories: A Tale of Happiness

OK I don't think I could possibly "offend" anyone with this one, so I will forego my usual "warning".  *on second thought... maybe some of this could "offend".*  In that case... well, you know.


The Christmases of my childhood were sweet, happy, innocent times.  I am ashamed to say I don't remember many of the usual traditions - like the Seven Fishes.  I know my maternal grandmother Erminia would do them, along with enough cookies and baking to feed an army.  I remember turning my nose up at "baccala"  (dried codfish) and remember it tasting like a salty rubber tire.  Never liked it!

I do remember however, that our tree was never decorated till Christmas Eve, after Dad got home from work.  We would always wait, he would string the lights, Mom would place the cherished glass decorations (some of which still exist!) and then place the tinsel carefully.  Dad often had a train platform where he would set up his beloved O-Gauge Lionel Trains, along with "Plasticville", the village, and the train station, and little mirror "pond", brush-trees and little soldiers and people.

I have mentioned that one year, we got a fake tree.  We hated it.  The second year we had it, Mom and I decided that this was not happening.  It was late, and it was Christmas Eve.  We trekked in the freezing cold from our house to the lot at St. Barnabas School (about four blocks).  We bought a tree, and the guy felt so sorry for us that he gave us a discount, AND carried it back to our house.

Then we would settle in after the decorating of the tree, and Mom would read us "The Night Before Christmas".  Then it was upstairs for us.  It was the only night of the year that Mom never had trouble getting us to go to bed.  Then the next morning, mayhem would ensue as we raced downstairs to see what Santa brought!  I sometimes worried that Santa could not come because we didn't have a fireplace!  My dearest memories are the year I got my prized Barbie Doll, and another year I got a 28" English racer.  (I couldn't reach the pedals!)  How I loved those dolls though.  We played games, one of our favorites was "Mousetrap", another was "Mille Bourne", a card game.  And of course, Monopoly and the Game of Life were popular also.  I think Mom still has some of those games in her basement!

Then we would head off to the grandparents' houses.  We were bound to run into some of the cousins there, which was always a good time.  I miss those days, my Mom's siblings, and my cousins, who are now parents and grandparents themselves!

Then on New Years Eve, my paternal grandmother Angela (of wedding gown fame) would open her home to her siblings and their kids.  There was SO MUCH FOOD.  And lots of love, and laughter, and more food.  Midnight we would go outside and make noise by banging on pots or trash can lids.  After she moved to 12th St. in 1966 we would take a hammer and bang on the steel electrical pole with the trolley wires.  We would stick "Greenie Stickem Caps" to the trolley rails, and wait for the trolley to come.  Bangbangbangbang!  It was SO much fun!  We were so easily amused.  And there were no cellphones or electronic entertainment.  Just each other, and simple things.

The next day, "Mummer's Day" as it was called in our house, we would all go, of course, to the parade.  Dad's uncles would go in the morning and set their ladder up across the street from St. Agnes Hospital.  We always had a great vantage point for the parade.  If you got too cold, you went to Grandmom Rucci's on Iseminger Street to warm up with hot chocolate and cookies.  Then when your feet were warm again, you would go back to your ladder!

Then after the parade, back to Grandmom Rucci's, where there was yet MORE FOOD and laughter, and card games, and so many cousins and friends.

My memories of those years are SO dear to me.  I often wonder if my brothers have those same memories - I am sorry to say that my youngest brother, a mere child born in '64, may not remember some of these times, when our grandmother was a vibrant, funny and fun-loving woman.  I have to keep those memories of her close to my heart.

Of course I miss my dear Dad... and all of his uncles, and his aunts.  His Aunt Cheta is still kicking at 91 years, God bless her.  I miss those innocent, happy days of my youth.  They replay in my mind over and over again, especially on this night.

Of course this is also the anniversary of my engagement to my Lou.  My ring was purchased while I was present, but I did not get the ring immediately.  He very carefully put it in a prize pack in a box of Cracker Jack, and it was presented to me on Christmas Eve, 1979 with my parents, grandparents, his siblings all knowing it was happening.  I did not.  Still, sweet memories of his family and mine.

Now I am content to stay home for New Years... too many crazies on the road.  We will have dinner with friends early, then retire to our homes before the madness starts.

And the memories will remain, in my heart and mind... always and forever.  Be sure to make your own memories.  We didn't have videos at our fingertips.  Our "videos" are what's in our minds' eyes.


And another thing.....

If you're asking for a sign - THIS IS IT.  If you are long estranged from any of your family, and you can find the least little spark of regret in your heart, reach out.  Is there really a reason you don't speak to your brothers or sisters?  Don't wait till it's TOO LATE.   Does it REALLY matter who's at fault???  You don't have to reconcile, but at least think about it - see if you can remember what dumb stuff made you stop talking to begin with.  I know some relationships are beyond that, but... If the memory is fuzzy, then it's time to reach out and reach UP.   Forgive.

Yes, forgive.  Even if you can't forget, and a very wise priest (Fr. Dougherty, who heard my confession after being away for 25 years) said that forgiveness does NOT mean reconciling... it only means forgiving.  If you try and it doesn't work - remember, you don't need to hold grudges - and be renting people free space in your head while they go merrily about their lives not even thinking of you.  Be at peace knowing you tried.


I cherish you all - my family, and my family that isn't blood.  Tomorrow isn't promised, so make sure those you love know it.  SAY IT.  MEAN IT.  SHOW IT.

Love and health, and good wishes for a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.  May God bless you all - remember the Reason for the season.

Reasons for Hating Winter: Always Have, Always Will.

If you're one of these people who love winter... STOP READING NOW. I don't want to hear how NOT nice I am.  If you are easily offended by my honesty or crude language, GO READ YOUR CEREAL BOX.

People are posting snow pictures, saying how beautiful it would be to have a white Christmas, how they love winter, and all that shit.  I know some of you love winter, and that's fine, but I have  legitimate reasons to despise it.  Snow and ice have made me hate the expression "winter wonderland".  Yuck.  Barf.  F**k that.

All that being said...  Here's the first reason:  please remember your friggin' big ass four wheel drive SUV cannot negotiate slippery roads, and you can't drive like the same ass you are on dry road.  NO.  Slippery roads are bad for EVERYONE.  Your four wheel drive shit will slide.  A car will slide, whether rear or front wheel drive.  A small truck will slide, a dump truck will slide.  An 18 wheeler, fully loaded or empty, will SLIDE.  Yes, they will.  If you drive like a horse's ass in this kind of weather (or any),  you endanger those I love, and that makes you the ENEMY.  If you know me at all, you know there is one thing you don't want to be -  it's my enemy.

Another reason:  Many people I love have jobs that make it necessary for them to drive in the shit.  I cannot tell you how many sleepless nights I had when my husband Lou was working - driving a tractor trailer in all weather, on all holidays, every winter for 35+ years.  After he retired he volunteered as a fire police officer in our township.  So, more of the same - out in all weather.  NO not fun.

I worked for 37 years - yep in the winter, too.  I despised getting up, putting on layers of clothes, going out, shoveling my way to driveway and chipping ice off the car, or cleaning off snow at 5 am.  I hate being cold, shoveling snow, chipping ice, trying to negotiate walking, warming up cars, trying to be careful not to fall and break any bones.  

Yeah, the snow is beautiful.  Yeah, oh it's so peaceful.  Yeah, NOT.   Nice for about the first 10 minutes.  After that it's just a menace and a source of danger for anyone who has to drive or be on the road, or has to work.  Doctors, nurses, police, firefighters, truck drivers especially those in the food business - all first responders as well as PECO linemen and such.

See? It really doesn't have to do with the weather bunnies, barbies, bimbos, bowties and assorted fruits, nuts and flakes.  It's really not all about Skeletor McSkinnybitch (contrary to what she thinks) and her kickbacks from the supermarkets.

If you have someone you care about who MUST be on the roads today... as I did, and still do, you will understand WHY I despise winter, snow, cold, and ice.   So yeah, it's pretty.   Pffffffft. 

End of  rant for now.  I still HATE winter.  I always have, I always will.  Maybe being born on the first day of Summer has something to do with it.   But now maybe you understand a little of the reason.  If not, and you're offended, too damn bad.  You were warned!

This is a slightly edited REPOST of a mini-rant previously published in 2015 about what Christmas Shopping in Center City meant to me at one time, and in response to a stupid article about "Things to Do in Philadelphia for Christmas".  Interesting.  Hope you have the same sweet memories of Center City that I do.  For there's NOTHING THERE now that makes that trip worth the risk or trouble. 


WARNING:  If easily offended, go read your cereal box or go make a fuss about a damn Starbuck's cup (again). You shouldn't be drinking that damned SWILL anyway.  Awful, bitter and overpriced....  So, if you're already offended, read no further here. 

First of all, please know that in spite of the tone of this post, I really love and am proud of my hometown for its historical significance, my family ties, and for the memories it has given me.  I am NOT proud of what it has done to center city's shopping district, not one little bit.  I'm not proud of its politics or its drunken, lame ass poor excuse for a "mayor".   All the problems the city has... and they worry about moving a statue.  IDIOCY!  Go ahead, keep electing the same IDIOTS though.  The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over, and expecting different results.  But I digress.

A few people posted "Things to Do in Philadelphia for Christmas".  Well it suggests the "macy's" Light Show and the Comcast light show, the ice rinks at City Hall and the riverfront, the lights across the streets in South Philly, Peddler's Village and Longwood Gardens among a few other minor attractions.  We'll just pretend someone knew how to move Longwood Gardens and Peddler's Village into Philadelphia.  What the hell brand of yuppie induced insanity is this??  Are you all drinking this kool-aid???  Though I understand that there is now another "City Lights" thing with lights on City Hall.  Looked kind of cool on TV but no, I still wouldn't waste the time!  

When I was a kid, Christmas in Philly was REAL.  It was fascinating and magical.  There really WERE many things to see and experience.  I'm talking mid 60s - early 70s here.  You could get on the bus and go to town, take the subway, buses, or whatever and not worry about getting mugged or having to be armed.

I remember Mom taking me to center city in the early 60s to see the stores all decked out for Christmas, and it wasn't till AFTER Thanksgiving that they were decorated.  It would be a full day, and we thought it very exciting to take the "trolley that goes into the tunnel" to get there.  I remember Angela *my paternal grandmother* taking me to Wanamakers every year to buy new clothes to add to what she made for me herself.  She would wear her mink coat and we would take a taxi.  Some overbearing young bimbo there once asked her why she had the nerve to wear mink.  My grandmother told her "Lady, please go fuck yourself."  Yes, verbatim.  At least she said "please". 

For me it was walking to 65th and Elmwood, taking the 36 Trolley to 13th St. or from South Philly, take the 17 bus to 13th.  From there, I'd go into Wanamaker's, shop a little, see the REAL Light Show with the dancing water fountains synchronized with the music of Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker.  Then walk down the south side of Market, stop in Lerner's on 12th, down to Dial Shoes, Marianne Shop, the Hallmark store, go to the Post Office to get Christmas stamps, go into Gimbels, shop, then cross the street at 8th.  From there, into Lits, look in the bargain basement, then cross and go to my favorite.  The Queen of Department Stores in my heart will always be Strawbridge & Clothier.  There, I'd shop more, maybe have lunch, go to the York Shop, and if I hadn't eaten in Strawbridges, stop at Horn and Hardart.  I might or might not go to Hanscoms, go to more shoe stores, then head back up to the subway station with arms full of packages, and STILL not worry about getting mugged.  It was a full, happy day in an easy, happy time.  I'm sure I'm not the only one who can recall doing the very same thing.  How many of you can remember the complete layout of Strawbridges and still "see" it in your mind's eye?  I can picture every floor, and still tell you where everything was.

Fast forward to the 80s... well you could still do some of the above, but you have to be willing to walk through the pickpocket filled, crime ridden, awful "Gallery".  Filthy except for the first 6 or so months after it opened.  Strawbridges was its anchor, and was the only store worth anything except for when the JC Penney anchored the other end.  But still a far cry from decent if you ask me.  And it deteriorated very quickly.  And don't go near there during the holidays if you wanted to leave with everything with which you entered, for roving bands of little bastards were looking for idiots who don't watch the surroundings to let down the guard for even a second.  

In the 90s the Gallery was bad enough that some little criminal son of a bitch tried to steal my work cellphone right out of my pocket on the escalator between the bottom and street levels.  I felt his hand go into my pocket.  I was armed, but the escalator wouldn't have been a good place for a shooting.  So I not so politely told him if he didn't get the f**k away from me I would kick his f**king little white-trash thug animal ASS down the escalator.  I believe I also told him I'd kick his mother, too.   He complied and lived to steal another day.

Fast forward to today.  Well, who would get on the 36 Trolley now?  Well not me.  So however you get to town, there is no more Wanamakers.  There is a "macy's" which can't hold a candle to Wanamakers, or any other Macy's for that matter.  It's a piss poor excuse for a department store. 

There is no more Lerner's.  There is no more Marianne's.  There is no more Dial Shoes.  In fact, the whole block *once Snellenburg's, before my time* is gone. There is no more Gimbels.  There is no more Lits.  There is, sadly, no more Strawbridges, and now even the filthy disgusting Gallery is closed.  Of course there is no Horn and Hardart, and no more Hanscoms. 

Market East is dead, unless you want to go down to 6th to the Historic district, and down further to the yuppie part of town that boasts overpriced restaurants and no reasonably priced parking. 

Sorry but the memories are all that live on for me when you say "Center City Philadelphia". 

I wish all of you had the same memories of the 60s and 70s.  I'm sure some of you have even better memories of it from the 40s and 50s.  I wish I could have seen it then.  Take it from me, it was a wonderful, magical place.

So... rant over *for now*. 

Memorial Day - It's NOT all about picnics and beer.

Freedom is not free.  That's a good bumper sticker, but it's so much more if you really think about it.

Think for a second about what you did in the past few days.  You may have gotten up and went to the kitchen to make yourself a cup of coffee or seven.  You may have sent a child to school.  You may have gone to work or just worked around the house.  You may have taken your Mom shopping.  You may just sit around and waste time on facebook (or wastebook) ninety times a day.

If it weren't for the sacrifices of many...  you may have had to stand in line to get the coffee and/or the water.  You may have not sent the child to a school of YOUR choice.  You may have gone to work... but for the state, not for yourself.  You may have taken someone shopping... to a store controlled by the government.  And I'm sure you wouldn't be free to play with your Iphone/Ipod/IWhatever and goof around on face/wastebook!

SO what I'm saying in my usual long winded way is... stop today and think about the many young men and women who gave their LIVES to our country, where we speak English (well, mostly) rather than German or Japanese... and can do and say as we please when we please.  We may worship God (or not) and attend the church of our choice (or not).

Remember that some of these heroes were no more than 18 or 19 years of age when they saw unspeakable things or had unspeakable things happen to them.  Just little kids... 18 or 19!  Imagine your teen being slaughtered, tortured or burned on Iwo Jima... or the Battle of the Bulge... or in Vietnam...  or Afghanistan...   Your TEEN, those who are SO protected by their hovering parents.  Some parents didn't get to hover - and got nothing more than a telegram and the crisply folded American Flag that covered their son's casket.   Those young men and women are who we honor today.  

Veteran's Day is for honoring those who served, and those who survived... however.... Memorial Day is for paying our respect to those who gave their LIVES for our country - for the rights we have to vote, pray, or be a complete a-hole.  If it's in your persuasion, say a little prayer for those brave men and women who sleep forever under the straight line ranks of stones at Arlington, and every other National Cemetery - and those who lay under foreign soil - and those who were never found.  Pray for the families of those brave souls, and those who still live with great loss.  Pray for the slain heroes who have NO ONE ELSE to pray for them.  Say a prayer for the 55,000 souls on the Wall.  Pray for those who have no one left to remember them.  All gave some... but some gave ALL.

Dear Lord, please hold the souls of our fallen heroes close to Your Heart, and keep them there forever, AMEN.   See, if you read that, you actually prayed.  And it probably didn't kill you!!!  

Groundhog Day... mixed with a little POE(m)....

I use the nickname "Ozzie" sometimes when writing or poking fun at someone .  It's a throwback to my step-grandfather, Mario Iannarelli, who nicknamed people at the drop of a hat.  If you asked "who was that" he'd say "Mr. Flick-Blicker" or if you asked when something would happen he would invariably say "Tuesday".  If you asked what day it was, he'd say "It's Ernie Iacobucci's birthday."  One day I asked who wrote some forgotten article in a magazine.  He said, "Ozwald B. Twaddle".  And thus my nickname, "Ozzie".  No it's not for Ozzy Osbourne.

I wrote much satire during my long career.  I'd publish it but so much of it was full of inside jokes and references that no one would understand it, save a very few friends.  Most of it was parodies of songs, like "We Didn't Start the Fire" or Buffett's "Everybody's Got a Cousin in Miami".

However, this is something that I wrote for Groundhog Day (yes we celebrated it).  It's modeled after the poem "The Raven" by my favorite author, Edgar Allan Poe.  It was written in about 30 minutes one day, at least 30 years ago.  Here it is.  Hope it makes you smile.


"NEVERMORE:  A Tale of the Groundhog"

In my bed I was a nappin'
Suddenly there came a tappin'.
Who could that be there a tappin'
Tappin' on my chamber door?

Didn't want to get up and rise
Because it comes as no surprise.
How could it be a surprise?
Surprise?  For me a total bore!

Now with two cold hands encumber
Waking me from peaceful slumber.
How can I have peaceful slumber?
Slumber? They're rotten to the core!

Out in the cold, no longer sleeping
From my hibernation keeping.
How come they keep on a-keeping
Keep banging on my chamber door?

For my rest I'm sorely pining
A thousand lights in my eyes shining
Is there a shadow?  Or sunlight shining?
Shining in my eyes, so very sore!

How could one not see reflection
With all the lights in the press section?
They just don't get the proper connection.
All this bunk is pure Folklore!

But to my praises the press do sing
Even though my eyes still sting.
Will we ever again have early spring??
Quoth the Groundhog, NEVERMORE!!

                                               -Ozzie Bee Twaddle  a/k/a Ozzie Allan Poe


Smile.  Six more weeks of winter.  Blahhhh!

Oh Please, Just Dry Up and Blow Away....

FIRST THING:  If you are one of those people who lives and breathes by what any "star" says or thinks, or get offended easily, for the love of God, STOP READING NOW.  Go find a cereal box or something.



People are talking about the Golden Globes.  People are talking about that dumbass KarTrashian's "stolen" jewelry.

REALLY PEOPLE, do these so-called 'stars' pay your bills?  Clothe you?  Feed you?  Do they support you in any way?  The way YOU support THEM if you go to their movies or watch their ridiculous TV shows?   NO I DON'T THINK SO.

Hey Meryl, I think you are a good actress.  I also think you're an egotistical, self centered old douchebag.  You don't speak for me, you don't support me or my family.  We've seen some of your movies so indirectly, WE support YOURS.  I don't need to watch you get up and spout your political BULLSHIT when you're getting an "award".  Get up, say thanks, and sit the fu*k down.  Yeah, you have your "right" to express yourself.  I have the right to say I think your idiotic, simpering political spouting is misplaced.  And these comments have NO side.  If your candidate would have won, and someone got up and spouted off about her, I'd still think it was misplaced.  I don't care who you voted for, supported, or dislike.  I don't care if you love gays, hate them, hate guns, have guns, or want to marry your pet goat.  I don't give two shits if you hate congress or have slept with half of them.  Don't care.  I don't want to hear it.  It's a STUPID awards show!  Again, get up, get your award, say thank you and GO SIT DOWN.

Hey Kim, I don't believe for two seconds that ANYONE stole your jewelry.  I think you and your moronic husband set it all up as a huge publicity stunt, and it worked.  (Not to mention possible insurance fraud?)  And if someone did steal your stuff, it proves you are a bigger IDIOT than I ever thought, for anyone to carry that much jewelry with them anywhere.  If you are that stupid, you deserve to get it stolen.  And if it really WAS stolen, I'm sure it was (over)insured.  So boo hoo, so over it, now shut up.

People are in dire straits around the world and we're supposed to care that people got arrested for *allegedly* stealing this jewelry?  Really?  No.  What a waste of police manpower.  France is swimming in terrorists and they're worried about your stupid jewelry?  Really?  No.

These people have no idea how most people live - their predicaments, their bills, their problems.  They could be (and might be) doing so much good in the world with their gains.  Get up for your award and tell me how you've done something good in the world with your wealth.  Tell people how if they've received kindness, to pay it forward.  Don't get up and tell me about how you feel - or how I should feel - about a president-elect.  I don't CARE.  And I don't care WHICH SIDE you're on, or off.  Don't care.

Oh, and this "Lala Land" won these so-called awards?  I have spoken to several friends and relatives who saw this poor excuse for a "musical" and said it SUCKED.  People who never have had a bad word to say about anything have said it sucked!  Of course, that's why it won all those "awards".  Oh please.  Gene Kelly, Fred Astaire, Debbie Reynolds, Danny Kaye, Anne Miller, Ginger Rogers, Eleanor Powell, James Cagney, just for a few, are all spinning in their graves.  Movies like "The Sound of Music", "The King and I", "Seven Brides for Seven Brothers", "State Fair", "Singin' in the Rain", "My Fair Lady" are all MUSICALS, not this schlock.  Not familiar with the names or movies?  It figures, Try Google or Netflix.

Hollywood was, at one time, somewhat classy.  Now, mostly all just egotistical, self entitled, puffed up rich-bitch whining little weenies and pukes.  Shut up. Please, just go away.

Offended?  Well, I warned you not to read.  And I don't care to hear your comments.  You have a right to express them.  Not here.  Put them on your own page.  Think I'm wrong?  Oh well.