magnetic personality

I’m a wacky old lady magnet, as in, I attract wacky old ladies.

This is Claire. I finally stopped to take her picture. I just love how EVERYTHING is red. Right down the shopping cart, the reusable shopping bags and get this, the red Chuck Taylor hi-tops. We met in front of the post office. She Xeroxes all the letters she sends so she’ll remember what she said when they write back. Claire was an actress, she created drama workshops & therapy for seniors trademarking the name Geriadrama.  We chatted, hugged it out and left with me promising to Google Geriadrama for her. She’s a little wary of computers.

I met Blanche while sitting outside an East Village coffee joint. She was me, in a Bizarro world, a lovely little Jewish woman who’d just moved to the East Village after spending a life in Jackson Heights, married to one man forever. I was a crazy Jewish broad who’d spent my life in the East Village with no husband to speak of who’d moved to Jackson Heights. She couldn’t understand how I could be single. I couldn’t understand how she could wake up to the same person day after day.

And. of course, there is my very favorite crazy old broad. My Big Edie. “Can I just comb the back of your hair?” she asks almost every time we see each other, even though I always say No. Big Edie, who leaned over and whispered in my ear “Some people shouldn’t wear skirts,” pointing her head in the direction of the chunky girl who’d just passed.

I can’t get dressed in the morning without hearing that voice, can’t walk down the street without silently evaluating every single woman’s outfit, hair, body.  But, this is the same woman who was introduced by her aunt as “My niece, who used to be beautiful.” Ouch! So I let it slide and have a some compassion because those voices in her head are turned up to level 11 and I’ve got mine down to 3 or 4 most days.  Because she has no idea that she has always been beautiful. Outside as well as inside. She is also wildly silly and kind. Big Edie calls to remind me I have access to her checking account “just in case.” She did that even when I was working. She’s the crazy old broad who offers to drive from Long Island to Queens and back for a week while I’m away so I won’t have to pay someone to feed & water my cats.  Even though she totally stresses around finding parking. And getting lost. Totally stresses. So I go to her house for our visits where my first question is almost always “What’s wrong with the computer?” followed closely by “Did you make chocolate pudding?” Invariably within the week or so since the last visit something has disappeared, moved to the left, shrunk, grown, frozen or ceased to function. Maybe Claire has good reason to be wary of computers. Big Edie on the other hand, staunchly refuses to be stopped merely because she is intimidated, by computers, parking, directions or instructions.

I’m a magnet for crazy old broads. Thank God.  I’m well on my way there myself…it’s nice to know I’ll have company.

Editor’s note: The following day on the phone, Claire & I accidentally discovered she’s the mother of a friend of mine. Moral of the story? Everyone is a clean slate when you don’t have any emotional history with them and Everyone is Someone to Someone else.