He Knows How To Deal With Pests (And Women)

Keith Goodman jokingly calls his 90-year-old mom, “Angie The Terrible” because she “takes over” every chance she gets. When he set her up in the 1,000-square-foot finished basement in his house, after Angela had surgery, she was upstairs constantly. She stayed for four months, and then Keith bought her a condominium nearby. Even though Angela has a companion who comes to help her out eight hours a day, “she’s up making herself breakfast before the woman arrives,” Keith told me. “She only watches Channel 11. Thinks it’s just for her. Loves the Maury (Povich) Show.” Gotta love Angela.

Gotta love Keith, too.

He’s a dream 51-year-old son for any mom on the face of the earth. Visits Angela every single day, often more than once. Lays out her meds. Brings her favorite cake. Makes sure her companion is cooking her fave dinner. Mashed potatoes and fish are a dinner of choice. When Keith recently disagreed with something Angela wanted, she admonished him, firmly saying, “I’m the mother!”

Keith was referred to me by my Brooklyn-wise pal, Nadine, who sold me my new (old) house, and owns a couple of houses nearby. “He’s a great exterminator, and very reasonable,” she said. The plumber working on the renovations in my home discovered an unsavory creature in the cellar, and I needed (was desperate!) to get ahold of Keith pronto. He called me back minutes after I left a message on his cell and made an appointment to check out the house. (more…)

Do You Know A Great Guy For Her Successful, Single Daughter?

“Do you still help set people up on your website?” asked the woman who called me one fine afternoon recently as I was driving to an appointment. She was referring to the FabOverFifty section we launched in 2010, called Date My Single Kid, created to help members of our community set up their single “kids.” (more…)

Leaving Manhattan After 48 Years!

When I took my friend Debbi to see the house I’m buying in Brooklyn, NY, she said: “I don’t know why you’re making such a big move at 69!”

I’ll tell you what I told Debbi in a moment, but first let me give you the details: I’ve owned a wonderful, 1,300-square-foot apartment (plus outdoor area) on the Upper East Side of Manhattan since 1992. I’ve loved living here, and if the walls had ears and mouths, they would tell you some pretty wild and wooly things.

On the less racy side, I remember the Christmas dinner buffet party I threw for about 100 employees. The weather was especially mild that year, which allowed guests to gather in the outdoor space, where the bar was set up. I hosted my own 50th birthday party at the apartment, surrounded by the people in my life who were the “most fun.” I vividly recall returning home late one evening from an exhausting European business trip and locking myself out within minutes. I remember welcoming a never-ending stream of my son’s friends, who would often gather here since it was close to their school. I loved making them meals. To this day, they call me “Godmother Brin.”

I always thought this would be where I’d live for the rest of my life, but I started to change my mind a couple of years ago, for two major reasons:


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My Husband Was A Sex Addict!

Charlotte is as pretty as her name. She’s in her early fifties, and was born abroad, although her slight accent doesn’t give away where. She married a man from another continent, decades her senior, and they raised their son in the United States, where they launched a successful business together. Charlotte was his third wife.

Anyone meeting them would swear she was the love of this man’s life. And, were it not for his sexual addiction, she might very well have been.

Even after Charlotte found out about her husband’s wandering ways, and he vowed they were over, he continued to betray her trust. She had enough when he claimed he was on yet another business trip, but she heard him greet his lover in the hotel room (he accidentally left his cell phone on after he and Charlotte talked.) She was sad, but she wasn’t surprised. (more…)

So, What Have You Been Doing During The Last 35 Years?

I had a three-hour lunch on Friday with four old friends. It was a long lunch because three of us haven’t seen each other in about 35 years. That’s a lot of catching up to do! We actually could have spent three more hours, but other obligations beckoned.


All of us worked together in the mid-70s at Norelco, the company that’s well known for its electric shavers. Back then, it also produced a full line of kitchen products, including microwave ovens, coffeemakers, and food processors, as well as personal care products like hair dryers. I was the publicity director; Pat worked for the brilliant but completely crazy president; Diane assisted the sexy, smart and roving-eyed vice president; Alice worked for an adorable, hard-to-understand Dutchman, and Theresa worked for fun and intense me. Theresa and I lost touch for many years, but reconnected a few years ago and have remained pals ever since. (more…)

What Would You Do If You Were Barbara?

One of my oldest FOF friends (we’ll call her Barbara) recently called me for advice about how to handle her sister-in-law (we’ll call her Paula), and I decided to share her predicament to get your input.  After you’ve read about Barbara’s problem, let me know what you’d do in the comments section.

Barbara has never liked her sister-in-law, Paula, but suffered her the handful of times she’d see her during the year. “She’s one of the most sarcastic people I’ve ever met. Sarcastic and nasty! Never has a nice thing to say to anyone,” Barbara told me.”I think she’s become an increasingly unhappy person because she hasn’t succeeded like she thought she would when she was young. She always thought she was better than everyone else, but everyone else moved ahead while her (photography) career became derailed. My brother is very successful and has supported Paula for decades, but she would have liked to be a success, too. The only problem is, with her personality, it’s no wonder she didn’t succeed. It’s really impossible to like her.”


The Price Of Keeping A Secret

TheAdvocatesDaughter-cvrIf you’d like to immerse yourself in a suspense novel that gets your attention on page one, and keeps you guessing till the very end, grab a copy of The Advocate’s Daughter, by Anthony Franze (St. Martin’s Publishing Group, 2016.)

A real-life appellate and Supreme Court lawyer at a leading Washington, DC firm, Anthony brings us into the fictitious life of Sean Serrat, one of the most respected legal minds in the country, who is on the short list to be nominated to the highest court in the land.  When Sean’s law-student daughter, Abby, is ruthlessly murdered in the Supreme Court library, her African American boyfriend is arrested, but soon Sean suspects he’s not the culprit, and sets out on his own to unveil the truth.spacer

“Sean ran up the stairs, but he felt hands on his arms. Two officers, one holding each bicep, were saying something, but he couldn’t process the words. Pacini also was yelling something he couldn’t make out. Their grip tightened as he started up the stairs. But he managed to break away.

“‘No, Sean, no!’ Pacini yelled as Sean pushed through to the dark crevice
between two massive bookshelves.

“Abby’s body was twisted, shoved into the bottom shelf. Blood was smeared on her face, her hair matted. She was pale white.

“And that’s the last thing Sean would remember from that day. That terrible day.”


“Liar, Liar, Pants On Fire”

Have you ever learned that someone you trusted lied to you? And, if you have, what did you do when you discovered the lie?  Did you confront her (or him), stop talking to her, ignore the whole episode?

When I found a little red hairdryer in the bathroom I used at Edgar’s house, I raced downstairs with it, waving it in the air and asking whose it was. He played dumb, but of course he knew who owned the cute little dryer. It was Marjorie, the travel agent he took to his bed after lying to me that he had to go out of town on business. Even though I didn’t actually meet Marjorie until after Edgar died, I was certain he wasn’t telling me the truth that evening decades ago. Confronting him only made him lie even more. Although I loved him too much to walk out, I never trusted him again after that. (more…)

What We Do When We Wake At 2 AM And Can’t Get Back To Sleep!

My friend, Alice, and I were both up at 2 am one day last week, she in Coral Springs, FL, and I in New York City. Avid fans of the app Words With Friends (Scrabble with slightly different rules), we started playing, and texting each other. WWF is an ideal middle-of-the-night activity because you don’t have to move from your bed. While we were playing, Alice and I came up with a list of other excellent diversions to occupy us when we can’t sleep. (You’ll have to get out of bed for some of them, unless you have a refrigerator next to it.)

1. Play Words With Friends (more…)

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No Thank You (Note)!

A FOFriend who bought an engagement gift three months ago, for a couple of 30-somethings (they sent out a link to their registries about eight months before their nuptials), hadn’t received a thank you note.

The store confirmed that the gift was delivered, so my friend asked me if I thought she should email the couple asking if they indeed received the gift. I said “sure.”  My mother taught me  the importance of sending thank you notes back in the 1950s, so I’ve considered them part of the code of polite behavior ever since.


The unapologetic response from the future bride thanked my friend and explained that she hadn’t had a chance to go through their gifts since they haven’t regularly visited the relative’s house to where the gifts were sent. She assured my friend that she would let her know about her gift when she got a chance to check. (more…)