Barry Manilow The Power of a Melody, Even Now

 

I admit it — I’m a big Barry Manilow fan and have been since the very beginning. I played "Tryin’ to Get the Feeling" and "Even Now" so often that I actually wore them out and had to buy new copies. When CDs replaced LPs, I didn’t hesitate; I replaced every one of my Manilow albums without a second thought.

And then there were the concerts.

Of all the artists I’ve seen live — and I’ve seen plenty — Barry is the one I’ve returned to again and again. His shows were never just concerts; they were little emotional tune‑ups. I loved his humor, the way he could poke fun at himself, and those gloriously over‑the‑top costumes. The Copacabana outfit alone deserves its own museum wing. I’m not entirely sure, but I think it actually is in the Smithsonian.

And for anyone who still insists that sentiment is a weakness, think again. And for all of you out there that think that sentiment is a weakness, think again.  There is nothing like a good melody to bring back a good memory.  

But one-night stands above the rest.

I had managed to snag third‑row center seats, the kind of seats you don’t even dare to dream about because they seem reserved for people with connections or cosmic luck. I guess mine was cosmic luck. 

Barry walked out and pulled up his stool.

And then he started to sing.

For a moment, a long, suspended, impossible moment, it felt like he was singing directly to me. Not to the crowd, not to the arena, not to the thousands of people who loved him just as much as I did. To me. He was looking straight at me, and I sat there thinking, well, this is it. This is the moment I will remember forever.

And I have.

Music is funny that way. It bookmarks our lives. It ties us to versions of ourselves we might have forgotten. When you’re young, the possibilities feel endless; when you’re older, you sometimes have to work a little harder to make new ones happen. These days, I try to live more in the present, while still allowing myself to glance back at the past now and then.

What sent me looking back this time was some difficult news. I just read that Barry Manilow has been diagnosed with lung cancer. Reports say it was caught early, and I truly hope that’s the case. Even with early detection, surgery and recovery are still ahead of him, and that’s a heavy road for anyone to walk. It’s hard not to feel a jolt of fear at the thought of losing someone whose music has woven itself so deeply into so many chapters of my life. A disease like that takes enough; it doesn’t need to take him too.

Joy doesn’t always come from grand gestures — sometimes it comes from a worn‑out album, a familiar voice, or a single moment in a crowded concert hall when the world narrows to one song and one singer.

I and all of Barry's fans, I am sure, are sending out positive energy and prayers for his recovery.

Over the Pond and Through the Woods (Sort Of)

 

Rather than stick with our usual wine and appetizer pairing for December, we decided to shake things up with a progressive dinner. I’ve always wanted to host one, so when everyone agreed, it felt like a dream come true.

To keep things simple, we had three hosts all within a few blocks of each other, so logistics were a breeze. So no, it wasn’t exactly over the river and through the woods. There were some woods, and there was water, but let’s be honest, it was a pond doing its very best impression of a river. Still, we did manage a tiny bit of adventuring between stops.

We kicked things off at the first house with appetizers and a holiday cocktail. We attempted to minimize the alcohol, given that we had two more stops ahead of us, but you know how good intentions behave around festive beverages. The spread was delightful: a charcuterie board, a wreath made of pigs in a blanket, and a shrimp ring. Light in spirit, though not exactly light in… any other sense.

The second stop was the main course, where we settled in like we owned the place. Wait, right, I do own the place. We lingered over chicken parm, eggplant medallions, salad, and garlic bread, comfort food doing exactly what comfort food does. Nearly two hours of conversation slipped by before we finally convinced ourselves to move on.

The final house was all about dessert. We indulged in decadent chocolate martinis, a cranberry prosecco martini, chocolate trifle, thumbprint cookies, and, of course, all‑important Santa Jello shots. It was the perfect way to celebrate the season together full of laughter, good food, and shared memories that will carry us into the new year. So, to all my friends who participated and to those who do not.  A happy holiday season, but more importantly to a healthy New Year!

Do you love Holiday Rom-Coms?

 

Every year, Hallmark launches its Countdown to Christmas in the weeks leading up to the holiday season. The movies are predictable, wholesome, and designed to provide comfort and joy.

The themes rarely change, and that’s part of their charm. Often, a big-city professional returns to a small town, where a chance encounter rekindles an old flame, or sparks a brand-new one. Familiar stars appear year after year, paired with different co-stars.  I have my favorite stars as I am sure you all do. If you watch them, you know exactly what I mean.

The very best part of these movies is that the main characters always find their happy ending. What makes the movies work is the journey the characters take because the outcome is predictable.

I used to watch Hallmark’s holiday lineup religiously, though not as much these days. Maybe I’ve grown a little weary of the predictability, or perhaps the stories feel a bit stale. Still, each season I manage to find one or two that I genuinely enjoy.

These days, I think I prefer reading holiday rom-coms to watching them. Curling up with a festive book in the evening helps me unwind, and I find it’s the perfect way to relax before bed. I have probably read almost a dozen of these rom-coms already and I won't stop reading them until the New Year.

See a Penny Pick it up

 

 

After 200 years, the penny has finally been retired. There are still 300 billion pennies in circulation, and each will continue to hold its value. However, no new pennies will be minted, and no additional coins will enter circulation.

The penny, America’s one-cent coin, traces its origins back to the late 18th century, making it the very first currency authorized by the United States. In 1792, the US Mint was established, and the penny was the first it produced. But the penny is even older. The very first one-cent coin was produced by a private mint in 1787. Known as the Fugio cent, it was designed with input from Benjamin Franklin. 

It currently costs about 4 cents to make and distribute a single penny, roughly four times its face value. This is one cost saving method made by this administration that does make sense, but it is still sad. 

In 1792, a single penny could buy small everyday items like a piece of bread, a mug of beer, or a handful of apples, its purchasing power was far greater than today.  By thee 1960's, however, the most iconic use of a penny was for candy, jawbreakers, licorice sticks, gumdrops, or a piece of bubble gum. I remember my brother and I going to the 7‑11 with our dad to pick up the Sunday New York Times. He would hand each of us a nickel for penny candy, and the choice felt monumental. We’d stand there for several minutes, carefully deciding which sweets would be ours for the week.

What does discontinuing the penny mean for us? Without pennies, cash transactions must be rounded to the nearest nickel. While this may seem like a minor detail, critics worry it could lead to subtle inflation if businesses consistently round up. As a shopper, I can’t help but feel that, even if it’s only a penny or two, I’m paying more than expected, and that leaves me feeling a little cheated.

 When I was in Paris France this past year, I found that many of the merchants did not like accepting cash. The United States is moving steadily toward a cashless society, but a fully cashless future is not guaranteed. Current trends show that more than half of Americans already live largely cash-free, yet cultural, economic, and equity concerns mean cash will likely remain in some form for years.

The general consensus is that pennies will never be worthless. they’ll always equal one cent. But their collectible value depends on rarity, age, and condition. For me, pennies carry sentimental weight, piggy banks, penny candy, lucky pennies. It is another part of my youth that will no longer be around. Their retirement adds a layer of nostalgia that may increase interest among collectors or not. Personally, I will always have pennies. 

It would be interesting how you may feel about the demise of the penny.  Please leave your comments.

Four Score and Still Counting: My Love Affair with History

 

I have always been drawn to the town of Gettysburg, PA. and I ask myself why.  I have walked the battlefields and feel an eerie presence of pain and suffering.  I am from Long Island, but I am in no way competition for Teresa Caputo aka the Long Island medium.  I can't explain this feeling of Deja vu.  All I know is I feel like I was there a long time ago.

When I recently went to visit my Maryland Besties for our annual holiday party, I took a trip to visit my friend from my old book club.  She just bought a home in a 55+ community.  It is just beautiful, and it was great to see her.

The town was the site of the bloodiest battle of the Civil War (Battle of Gettysburg July 1-3, 1863), a turning point that shaped the nation’s future. Just months later, President Abraham Lincoln delivered his famous speech here, redefining the meaning of democracy and sacrifice. Just to jog your memory, it started like this "Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal." A very powerful speech!

Gettysburg today is a town that has somehow managed to preserve its history. No big office buildings. As you stroll down its streets, countless buildings bear plaques declaring their presence since the Civil War. Walking among them, I found myself imagining the people who once passed along these same paths in the 1800s. There’s an undeniable connection, a palpable vibe, that bridges past and present and I love it.

 We went for lunch at the Sign of the Buck a lovely restaurant in Downtown Gettysburg. In 1804, George Welsh opened the original Sign of the Buck tavern on Chambersburg Street. At the time, many people couldn’t read, so businesses used pictorial signs to indicate the type of business. The building became part of the Union Hotel, a boarding house and gathering spot in downtown Gettysburg. If you look at the picture below, the restaurant and tavern take up the whole first floor.

I was so happy to see the vegetable grilled cheese on the menu.  You all know how much I love my grilled cheese sandwiches and it did not disappoint. My friends ordered other menu items, and each were equally as good.

The Sign of the Buck is more than a restaurant—it’s a living piece of Gettysburg’s civic and cultural history. From a frontier tavern where travelers rested, to a modern brasserie where locals and visitors gather, it reflects how Gettysburg continually reinterprets its past for new generations.

If you are ever travelling in and around Gettysburg, spend some time in the downtown area. It is worth it. And while you are at it, take some time to enjoy one of the restaurants and have lunch or dinner. I really liked the Sign of the Buck but there are others as well!

Susan Seeks Snow

 

I’m a cold-weather junkie. I don’t bother with a coat until the thermometer dips below 40 degrees, and if it’s snowing, all the better. I told my husband that this year I would be seeking a place to visit that had snow and as luck had it, I found my snow early in the winter.  I mean after all, it is only November.

Recently, my Maryland Besties, the Wild Women of West Virginia Wine Group, gathered for our annual holiday party. This year, with retirement just around the corner, I didn’t have to juggle schedules or clear time off with a manager. I simply got in the car and drove. Seven hours later, after deciding to make the trip in a single day, I arrived in Maryland ready to celebrate.

The weather was clear and sunny all day, which was perfect, because as much as I love snow, I don’t particularly enjoy driving in it. I stayed with a friend, and the next morning I woke to find snow falling. We cancelled our plans, and I brewed a cup of coffee, settled by the window, and simply watched. There is nothing more relaxing or peaceful than snow drifting softly to the ground.

When it snows the world grows hushed, as if the snow absorbs noise. It creates a cocoon of quiet, a pause in the usual rhythm of life, which I absolutely adore. It is such a nice change from the daily sights and sounds.

By afternoon, the snow had stopped, and we were able to keep our evening plans—our annual holiday party. I’ve known these wonderful women for more than twenty years. Though we no longer see each other regularly, whenever we gather it feels as if time and distance have never come between us. We spend the first hour catching up and then it is just easy back and forth banter. 

We enjoyed a wonderful dinner prepared by our host, Diane, who also mixed a cocktail that was downright lethal. Halfway through my first glass, I was already feeling no pain. It started as a classic cosmopolitan, but she amped up the flavor, and the potency, by topping it with prosecco.

Once we were happily sated by the amazing dinner, we moved on to our usual gift swap game. I’m sure many of you play a version of it at your holiday gatherings. The twist this year was that there was very little stealing, normally the most entertaining part, since even if you pick a gift you love, there’s no guarantee you’ll take it home. For some reason, our friend Pat always chooses the best gifts, and they’re inevitably stolen from her. The upside is that she gets to pick again…and again. 

It was so wonderful to see everyone and have it snow early in the season!

The Jefferson Key

The story revolves around a mysterious letter of marque allegedly issued by George Washington and the Second Continental Congress. This document, according to the book, elevated pirates to the status of privateers—private citizens authorized by the U.S. government to attack foreign ships during wartime. Backed by the Constitution, it was a clever way to mobilize ships and sailors without footing the bill.

Privateers kept the spoils of their raids but were supposed to pay the government twenty percent of their profits. Realistically? A pirate—sorry, privateer—who delights in plundering cargo isn’t likely to hand over a cut to Uncle Sam. These letters of marque essentially gave privateers a legal shield, a government-sanctioned license to steal.

The story kicks off in January 1835, just outside the Capitol Building, when a man attempts to assassinate President Andrew Jackson. Fortunately for Jackson, it was raining, and the would-be assassin’s pistols misfired. Jackson, understandably furious, suspected a shadowy group of four families calling themselves “the Commonwealth”—not to be confused with the Commonwealth of Virginia. In a fit of rage, Jackson tore the pages granting their letter of marque from the official records, rendering their actions unsanctioned. He then sent them a scathing letter, essentially telling them to rot in hell, along with a cryptic page containing a nine-line cipher written by Thomas Jefferson and his associate Patterson. The cipher supposedly revealed where Jackson hid the original pages.

For nearly two centuries, no one could crack the code—until a modern-day cryptologist and his powerful software finally did. Now, everyone wants the decoded message. The Commonwealth families are especially desperate, as the government is demanding back taxes on their long-hidden treasure. What follows is a high-stakes scramble involving multiple government agencies, shadowy operatives, and a tangled web of loyalties. It’s hard to tell who’s on the side of justice and who’s chasing power.

There’s an attempt on the current President’s life, a trail of bodies, and enough twists to keep you guessing. It’s a riveting historical thriller with modern consequences. Try it—you just might get hooked.

It's a good read for a cold or rainy day.