Isn't She Crate?

So, I might have mentioned how Shlomo and I were slightly out of control with our shopping when we were in New York a couple of weeks ago. Yeah, for some reason when we were there, we decided to redecorate a room that was really not in tremendous need of redecoration.

But let me give you a little backstory/justification. When Shlomo moved into our house, he literally had no furniture (not counting mattresses). Literally none. Over the course of that summer, he bought a sofa, some TVs, and a table with bar stools rather than chairs for the breakfast nook. One friend found a great buffet that fit perfectly in the niche in the dining room. Another helped him have a dining room table made from an old ranch door. There were no chairs.

He lived like that until Labor Day weekend. There was a furniture sale at a local furniture store. He filled the house (including a decent table for the breakfast nook and chairs for the dining room table). It’s not that the stuff was terrible, but even he claims not to have really picked it all out. He attributes most of it to the guy who worked in the furniture store…let’s just say it rhymes with Lassett.

So a year later, he met me. A year after that, we combined households. I was never in love with most of the stuff from Lassett. It’s fine. It’s run of the mill. Everyone can go buy exactly the same stuff. I am more like Phoebe in her pre-Pottery Barn phase (if you don’t watch Friends, you will not understand that reference). I like for my things to be a little more unique.

Shlomo agreed. He always said that he just wanted furniture when he bought it. Over time, we could replace it. It’s amazing how fast “over time” can actually be.

So, in New York, we fell in love with this table (minus the mushrooms—our fine friends at Bergdorff Goodman got to keep those). It was more than we wanted to spend, but desire outweighed practicality. It often does with us.

We weren’t completely out of control. They agreed to hold it until we could get home and confirm that it actually fit in our living room. It would. We struck a deal. They agreed to ship it out. It just needed to arrive.

Last Friday, it did. FedEx delivered it at 10:45 (just minutes after their promised time—I won’t complain about that). The driver put the crate which was the size of a small car in our driveway and was heading out. Shlomo requested that he use his forklift-type apparatus to move it to our garage (on my side of course—thanks, Shlomo!). The driver did that.

I got home at lunch and we began what we knew would be a daunting task…uncrating it. Yeah, we don’t have the best mechanical prowess. It was not going well. We stripped two screwdrivers…and still the crate was not open.

Shlomo phoned the store. Our salesgirl had the day off. Her manager was a bit snippy and finally said that she would see what she could do. She did point out that no other customers seem to have this problem. I decided that could only be for one of two reasons…either she was lying or anyone who would buy such a ridiculous item would have servants to uncrate it for them. Surely, we weren’t the only customers to ever stretch to buy a table there. I know Oprah lists the store as her favorite place, but it’s not that ridiculous.

A couple of hours later, another woman from Bergdorff’s called back. She had arranged for someone from Neiman Marcus (somehow they fall under the same corporate entity…I am not really sure who owns whom) come and uncrate it for us. Shlomo met them there. It took them five minutes to undo the crate. We had worked for almost an hour. Slight problem, however: they could not lift the table.

They left and went to get a dolly. I got home from work. It took all four of us and a dolly to get this thing in the house. It’s not moving. It’s there forever. Our taste can never change. A hurricane can come through. Our house can collapse. It will still be there.

After the struggle and pain of getting it in place, somehow, I felt better. And, it wasn’t just because the table was there. Yes, Shlomo and I are wimps. But, these guys get paid to do this sort of thing and they struggled with it. Hats off to those fine folks at Bergdorff Goodman for their crating ability. I have never seen anything so well packed. However, this is my advice to them: if you are shipping a crate that literally weighs 616 pounds, chances are, the person receiving that crate is not going to be able to “just handle it.” But, all is well that ends well.

Dullsville, TX

Okay, I'm bored. Shlomo is in the air somewhere between here and Orlando. New episodes of my favorite shows have not started airing since the writers' strike (seriously, I need some Ugly Betty!). So, here I sit...just waiting for Project Runway.

Let me talk a minute about Project Runway. As someone who often considers himself walking down the runway of life, I have a serious love for this show. You already know that we bumped into Chris when we were in NYC a couple of weeks ago. I told him I was pulling for him. That was before I knew he used human hair in his final designs. Ewwww!

So now, it's down to Christian (he's fierce), Jillian (she's talented, but a little boring), and Rami (to quote Chandler Bing, "Can he be draping anymore fabric?"). Honestly, they are all good. I don't really care who wins. Okay, that's not entirely true. I would kind of like to see that little Christian win. I guess I will know in a couple of hours.

In the meantime, I guess I will plan my shirt and cufflink combination for tomorrow. That will take about seven seconds. So, it's right back to Dullsville.

Sliding Down That Slippery Slope of Home Decor

In case I have not made myself abundantly clear, Shlomo and I were seriously out of control in New York. When we left for the trip, we thought our living room was perfect. Within one hour of checking into our hotel, we had bought a chair that turned the entire room upside down. The chair, made of black shell lining applied over wood, led to the purchase of end tables. Then, there was a console table that can only be described as a big slab o’ wood with which we fell in love. That meant we had to change some of the art in the room. You can see, it was a slippery slope.

Well, we got home. We moved out the old and are waiting for the new stuff to arrive. It became abundantly clear that one more thing had to go: the brown fabric recliners. It’s not that the chairs were terrible. They are not. However, I had visions for Frasier Crane’s apartment. You know the one: the perfect sofa, the perfect art, the perfect objet strewn about. It’s all modern, yet traditional—decorated, yet not. Then, there it is…that big, ugly chair. All that was missing from ours, was the duct tape.

As a result, we decided if we had gone that far in our redecorating, we could look at new chairs. Let me say this from the outset: 1) I hate shopping for upholstered furniture. 2) Our chairs, while not that bad, were in fact a weak link in the room.

I would tell you we got up bright and early on Saturday to hit the ground running, but we really did not. We were, however, out of the house by 10:30. First stop: breakfast. What can I say? My mother trained me well. The key for any successful day of shopping is food for sustenance.

As a general rule, we knew that none of the big chain furniture stores would have what we wanted. I am not sure how we knew that, because we weren’t sure what we wanted. So we started with a few of the more specialized (read: pricey) local stores. I am not sure what they think makes their stuff so special, but it is not.

I won’t bore you with the details, but we went to 18 different furniture stores over the course of two days. We wound up ordering two of these. We thought they said modern, but traditional…comfortable, but attractive. They were in the fourth store.
We could be wrong, however. At one point on Saturday, we seriously considered this in a combination of brown leather and either a taupe or grey fabric. I chalk it up to simple giddiness from a long day of looking at furniture. I am not saying there is anything wrong with them. They are very comfortable. In the right environment, they would be great. Our living room (with an antique French table between them) is not the right environment.




I also knew we were in a bit of trouble when we found ourselves considering ivory leather. There is nothing about our living room that says, "Add some ivory leather, please."

So now, we wait. The rest of the stuff from New York should arrive on Saturday. The chairs should be delivered next week.

In the meantime, we have the existing painting of Pansy hung beside a dining room chair next to a big orange vase/umbrella stand from the entry hall to provide a very bad approximation of the black shell chair and end tables. Then, we used blue painters tape to mark where the big slab o’ wood table will go. We then taped photos of the painting and sculpture over it. I kid you not. It takes a little imagination at the moment, but I am pretty sure our living room will be even better than before.

I'm With Beyonce

Yep, those are words I never thought I would say. But, remember back about a month ago when that Destiny's Child baby diva introduced TinaTurner at the Grammy's with, "All hail, the Queen!" Everyone went wild. Tina came out and gave a great performance. And Aretha Franklin sat in the front row all bent out of shape because she thought she was the Queen because she is known as the "Queen of Soul." At the time, I thought it was Re-re's sour grapes.

Well now, I have a few sour grapes of my own. Earlier in the year, I had expressed my delight that Shlomo and I would be seeing Ms. Franklin in April...from the fifth row, no less. Word came yesterday, that the self-proclaimed "Only Queen" has cancelled.

Therefore, I now go with Beyonce. I saw Tina years ago. She did not cancel. Hers was the first cd I ever bought (Aretha was second). Therefore, I too say, "All hail, the Queen!"

Overheard in the Big Apple

Well, we took New York by storm last weekend. It's hard to believe we got there a full week ago. It seems like so much has happened since then. Really, it was just a stomach virus. If you were, say, a Russian spy following us with a tape recorder over that weekend, this is what you might have heard:

• Anshel to Shlomo: "That's a great hat. I am sure it is warm. But, you kind of look like you should be in the cast of F-Troop when you wear it. Try another one." Not everyone can look good in every hat like I do.
• Shlomo: "That's the guy from the costume show." Anshel in response: "Yes, that is Chris from Project Runway." Costume show? Seriously.
• Anshel: "Wow, that mirror is beautiful. It would look great in our living room." Shlomo examining the tag hanging from it: "Oh, it is. Holy sh!t! I must have added a zero." Anshel carefully lifting the tag: "No, it actually is $400,000." We were so out of our league in that store.
• Anshel: "You should get that."
• Shlomo: "You should buy that." I don't think an explanation is really necessary.
• Shlomo: "Where would we put it?" Anshel in response: "I am sure it can go somewhere in our house." This conversation applied to numerous objet d'art.
• Anshel: "This is the best lobster with lemon risotto that I have ever had." It was also the only lobster with lemon risotto that I had ever had. Given the opportunity, I would definitely have it again. You should, too.
• Both, uttered almost in unison as she took the stage: "Dianne Wiest is so beautiful."
• Anshel: "How can you not love a play that culminates in a choreographed routine to George Michael's Freedom? And, they strip to a nude body stocking!!!!" Really, how can you not?
• Both, in unison after each purchase: "We are sooooo out of control."
• Anshel: "My friend Phoebe is so nice." Okay, so I'm still a little star-struck.
• Shlomo: "This is the best apple crisp. The prunes are a nice touch." Anshel: "Yeah, I am pretty sure I don't need prunes at the moment."
• Anshel: "Yeah. I am pretty sure that's a Warhol. And, I am pretty sure we can't afford it." It was and we could not.
• Salesman at Barney's New York, New York: "That table top is made from wild agate." Anshel in response: "Thank goodness. Nothing repulses me more than domesticated agate." Wild agate? Who are they trying to kid? By the way, said table will arrive next week. (Also, if you are a geologist and there really is a difference in "wild" versus "domesticated" agate, please clue me in in the comments section.)

That's about it for the moment. I think they are all in enough context to get the drift. If not, I can explain.

New BFF

I am sick. I am going to the office today. But it has been a long 48 hours. But really, who cares about that? I have an important update to share.

Shlomo and I have a new best friend. If you are an fan of Fast Times at Ridgemont High, Princess Caraboo, or (my favorite) Drop Dead, Fred, you might have heard of her. If you ever find yourself looking in the mirror and uttering that line from Lace...the best line from any mini-series ever..."Which one of you bitches is my mother?"...then you know her. Her name? Ms. Phoebe Cates.

In case you did not know, she has been married to a certain Oscar winner named Kevin Kline for many years and has basically given up the business known as show. They have their kids, live in New York, are blissfully happy, blah, blah, blah. A few years ago, she opened a store on the Upper East Side called The Blue Tree. I went in a couple of years ago with my mother. It's a great store. When we were leaving, we saw her walking down the street to the store. She is still stunningly beautiful.

Anyway, on Monday, Shlomo and I were shopping our way across the isle of Manhattan. That is a whole other story, by the way. We did that very well. So, we went to The Blue Tree. They buzzed us in the store and standing in the walkway putting some jewelry in the display case was Ms. Cates. She welcomed us to the store and was very nice. My first response was what it usually is when I am caught off-guard, "Uhmana, uhmana, uhmana." I knew it was her store, but I assumed she had minyans who did the work. Evidently I was wrong.

When I could compose a full sentence, I said,"Okay, I cannot pretend I don't know who you are. I'm a big fan. I like to think I am cool and can ignore stuff like that, but I'm not."

She laughed and said, "Oh, coolness is so overrated." We looked around. I had seen some vintage cufflinks on their website. Shlomo asked Phoebe about them. She sent us upstairs. I found a pair (Wedgwood from the 1940s). Shlomo, who I am convinced was just caught up in the moment, found a pair (silver pelicans). We went downstairs to make the purchase.

On the way out, I thanked her and said, "Please act more!"

She died laughing and said, "No way. I am done forever."

Me pleadingly, "Not even if Jennifer Jason Leigh directs another movie?"

Her, "Oh, that I would do in a heartbeat. That's just play. And, Jennifer has been talking about it again."

I then told her that we had seen her husband in Cyrano de Bergerac in December and loved it. Actually, I might have said there is no justice in the world if he does not win the Tony. She asked what we had seen while we there. We ran down the list. She talked about each play. We particularly talked about The Seagull starring Dianne Wiest and Alan Cumming. She told us she had played Nina about 20 years ago in La Jolla and then talked of Meryl doing it in the park a few years ago. Yeah. She called her Meryl. Because they are friends. I am pretty sure I would call her Meryl Streep to her face. That's right. I was talking to someone who is on a first name basis with Meryl. Aye, yi, yi.

She asked where we were going for lunch and recommended a place a few doors down. I told her where we were thinking and she agreed it was a good choice. All in all, she was just charming. I love her.

So, I guess you can see how close we now are. If I saw her walking down the street, I would approach and she would I am sure graciously respond, "I'm sorry, sir. Who are you? Please stop accosting me."

Scout it Out

I pulled it out...that familiar purple box. It looked basically the same since childhood. The girl on it might have changed, but it's still familiar. Here it was...my favorite Girl Scout cookie...the caramel delight. I still wonder why they are not called Samoas as they were when I was a kid, but there is nothing like the smell of a newly opened package. Well, nothing like the smell except maybe the taste. It's nice to know some things never change. No matter what your favorite type, happy Girl Scout Cookie day. Some (mainly me) consider it the happiest day of the year. Bon Apetit!