Dead Slow

Life's certainly having it's ups and downs this month. One day comedy, next day tragedy. Today we found ourself at our first American funeral.
Like so many things I do here, it was just like being on TV or in a movie. The service prior to the internment was held in a funeral home. Chairs were lined up in long rows with a lecturn at the front for prayers and eulogies to be read. It was a scene I had seen in programmes like Will and Grace or Everybody Loves Raymond, and to be honest, I didn't realise it was something which actually happened in real life. In England I have only been to services in churches or draughty rooms at a cemetry.
It was another one of those moments which defines the difference between just visiting and living in a country. After the service we prepared to drive to the cemetry.
"All cars heading for the burial must line up to take part in the funeral procession," we were told. "You'll need a orange sticker for the windscreen, a flag for the window and remember to keep your hazard lights going."
I looked at Grumpy.
"This is a bit odd," I said. "I assumed we'd just drive on our own."
"It'll be interesting," Grumpy said. "Don't you remember reading about this in the rules of the road? It means we can go through red lights."
He seemed far too excited at the thought of this as we got into the car. It's not like he's never driven through a red light before. We waited for a dozen or so cars to line up and we set off. Thirty minutes later we were still driving.
"Well this is certainly different," Grumpy said. "In England the services are always at the cemetry."
The funeral courtage actually looked quite jolly, apart from the hearse in the front, of course. All the cars had bright orange flags waving gaily from their windows, lights blinking. The final car had two flags, and was driven by a representative of the funeral home.
"Er, we are in the right group?" I inquired after 45 minutes. "This is a really long way. Are we there yet?"
"Can't be much longer," said Grumpy. "But its amazing how many cemetries we've passed."
An hour had passed. The car was a little warm and I was feeling very stuffy thanks to the cold Grumpy has kindly given me. I decided to open the window a little. Aaahh. "What was that?"
"You've lost the flag," yelled Grumpy. "How are we going to get through the red lights now? Bet they won't even let us into the cemetry now!"
"We've still got the sticker," I whimpered. "I'm sorry, I never open the window. I just forgot. Atishoo."

Ark Nights

Never put on a show in a house of God! All week we've been rehearsing the Noah's Ark scene from Holy Neuteronomy! and tonight we left to travel home in a real life flood. Either the cast are better actors than I thought, or someone up there is having the last laugh.

Author! Author!

It took Mrs Hammerstein and myself about six months to write Holy Neuteronomy! (on at Congregation Beth Shalom this weekend, order your tickets now on 630 961 1818). Auditions were in December and the 27 strong cast have been rehearsing relentlessly since January. As you might imagine it's been a lot of hard work, but nothing has been as hard as the final piece of the puzzle.
This week I've been working on my 'thank you' speech for the end of the show. I know it's nothing to worry about really. After all, the cast will have been acting their socks off all night, and all I have to do is jump up say a few thank yous and sit back down. Easy, right? If you think that, you obviously don't know me very well.
After seeing my speech on the DVD for last year's show I was unhappy about four things.
1. I used the word 'magnificent' over and over again, so I have to make sure I don't use it all this time.
2. I relied on my notes far too much, so this year I'm not having any.
3. I had troubling juggling the microphone and other things.
4. I looked huge. (Guess I'll just have to live with that one).
So all week I've been perfecting what should thankfully be a very short speech. Trouble is, confident as I am as a writer, I'm very nervous on stage, which is probably why I'm not actually in the show. (That and a lack of acting and singing talent, of course).
I've been vile to the cast telling them they are under pain of death if they interrupt me, which includes our wonderful cantor who is doing a cameo and the musicians who only wanted to play Happy Birthday to me.
I've practised my tiny speech a thousand times, mostly in the middle of the night when I can't sleep for worrying about it. I've visualized the audience falling off their seats laughing which helps a bit unless they're laughing for the wrong reasons.
I've changed my clothes twenty times, which isn't easy when you only have four things to choose from. I've demanded a mic to wear from our sound man so I don't have to hold one and had the locks changed at the synagogue so no one will be able to escape the building until I'm ready to let them free.
Of course no one will be aware of any of my angst on the big night because they'll be happily enjoying the show, unless they've read this of course. But here's the truth. Although I've spent incalculable time and effort on this show which is meant to showcase the talent and warmth of our congregation to the outside community, when it comes down to it, I'm afraid it's all about me...

Chewing the Fat Tuesday

Today may be Mardi Gras, but being English, this day is very special for another reason. It's Pancake Day!
Of course you could argue every day is Pancake Day in the U.S. All the major breakfast places sell them. But American pancakes are not what I'm talking about. Pancake day is not about two inch thick foam frisbees, it's about light fluffy folded crepes dusted with icing sugar and sprinkled with lemon juice.
It's about coming home from school to smell the butter toasting in the pan, a measuring jug full of creamy batter waiting patiently to be poured in, little by little. It's about swirling the batter until it just coats the bottom of the pan. Then for the exciting part. You don't just use a spatular to flip the pancake over. You wait for the bubbles to burst on the top, the batter to set, then flip it up as high as the ceiling. It turns around mid air like a trapeze artist before gently floating back into the pan.
England is so happy to celebrate Pancake Day, that entire TV programmes are devoted to it. The highlight has always been the BBC children's magazine programme Blue Peter. Each year the newest member of the team would be forced to make a pancake live on air! What fun as the batter burnt or the pancake fell onto the studio floor when flipped!
In some parts of the UK people even take part in Pancake races. They run down the streets with frying pans in a mad dash to the finish line.
Regular readers will already know about my own pancake making prowess (Jan 31st 2008) so I won't blame you if you don't turn up with an empty plate at the ready later today. Personally, I'm off to IHOP.

And The Winners Are...

To commemorate today’s Oscars, I thought I’d share some of my personal winners over the past year.

Special effects: For his role in restoring a rickety lighting system which left our bathroom completely in the dark: Jett.

Best Comedy: For his role in plowing through a gas line which brought out the fire
Brigade: Spike.

Best Supporting Actor: For allowing me to ridicule him in the press, Grumpy.

Best Supporting Friend: For counselling me at least one morning a week over coffee in Panera Bread: The Duchess.

Super Fan award: For laughing wildly every time I attempt to be funny, even though I know half the time she does’nt understand what I am saying: Hyacinth.

Best Music (teacher): For her encouragement during my weakly piano lessons and popping cotton wool in her ears so discretely I didn’t even notice until week 4: Kim

Best Actress in a leading role: For convincing the town I could write and direct a musical: Me.

Marvellous Madison

With a day off for Presidents' Day yesterday, we explored Madison, Wisconsin, a two hour drive away.

We stumbled across some amazing ice and snow sculptures, although this wasn't one of them.
Puts your average snowman to shame.

If you look really carefully, an icicle makes this little horse look like he's drooling.

State Street, Madison.

Romantic Interlude

Happy Valentine's Day everybody. I was surprised to receive a cute gift from Grumpy this year. Since our wedding anniversary is on the 12th, we're normally all romanced out by today. I needn't have worried. Turns out he won the teddy bear and chocolates in a raffle at work on Friday!
I did actually give him a card this year, but only because I was buying one for my Gbf and it seemed rude to leave him out. My visit to the card store was an interesting experience. They have an astonishing choice. You can buy 8 or even 12 Valentine's cards in a pack. Just how many lovers do Americans have? You can get Valentines for your dog, from your cat; ones for your cousin's uncle and the lady you see on the train every day. You can give Valentines to your children, your grandchildren,the goldfish and the people who manufacture the cards.
It's not much different in the supermarket. There you can heart shaped cakes with fluorescent pink frosting, foil balloons and stuffed toys with padded red hearts round their necks. And that's before you've even reached the fruit and veg.
This year I've received three cards myself, which is three more than I usually get. As well as Grumpy's, I also received one from my Gbf bless him, and our realtor. No, I'm not having a secret affair with him. It's just you can also get Happy Valentine's Day, Remember Me When You Want To Sell Your House cards too.

Naperville Online Weekly: Funny Side Up

I finally cracked the problem with the photos! My latest column shows me looking young, cute and sexy because she's a cartoon! My new, and much preferable alter ego will be officially launched on Monday as part of The Glancer's new e magazine, Naperville Online Weekly. Blog readers can get a sneak preview however, by clicking on the link on the side bar.




Each week I'll be taking a satirical look at something in the local news. This should be simple enough because I now write local news for The Naperville Sun. Naperville Online Weekly is packed with news about the town. I did actually have my third photo shoot of the week there this morning, but I'm pleased to see they've used such a small picture that I don't look half bad - just half size!

Happy Anniversary

Today is our 28th wedding anniversary, so I thought you'd like to see an old photo of Grumpy and me on our big day. As you can see, neither of us has changed a bit!

Picture Imperfect

While I am more than happy to court fame, it does seem a bit sad that I've started attracting attention just as my looks and figure are heading out the door. Since I'm a writer I assumed this wouldn't be a problem. More than happy to write about anything. Particularly happy to see my name in print. But photos? Why now?
I've written about this before, but things have come to a head (unfortunately mine) this week. Yesterday I did a photo shoot for the Naperville Sun and got Grumpy to take some for another little project I'm hope to launch. Tomorrow I'm heading to the offices of The Glancer magazine for pix for a new column I'm writing for their new on line publication which launches next week.
Waiting my turn at the Sun offices was like waiting to go before a firing squad. Or the dentist. Or hospital X rays. The actual process wasn't too bad, but I'm dreading getting the results. Even worse, I won't see them until they are in print, so it will be too late to do anything about it.
"I'm only doing this if you can photo shop my head onto Jennifer Aniston's body," I said to the photographer as he started climbing a ladder. He peered down at me.
"What kind of articles do you write?" he said, totally ignoring my comment. The fact he didn't already know led to at least six shots of me looking faintly irritated.
"Funny," I said. "Don't bother to take anything of me looking serious."
Trouble is, even when I smile I look serious, as was evident when Grumpy took more snaps of me later at home.
"You don't smile with your lips turned up," he grumbled, which of course made them turn down even more. "Show your teeth."
I sneered at him like a tiger. "Only if you can airbrush them," I said. "I have British teeth. Remember, the ones they always crack jokes about on TV."
Click, click.
"Well, are any of those any good?" I grimaced.
"Er, how can I put this," said Grumpy. "They're ok. It's just your chin."
So now I have a new neurosis. Apart from the obvious issues, now I apparently have a chin that would shadow Jay Leno's.
Heaven knows how it will turn out tomorrow. I'm writing a new humor column so have been told to wear something brightly coloured and fun. Perhaps I should just buy a yellow bin liner and pull it over my head.

Treading the Boards

With three weeks to go, the cast of Holy Neuteronomy! are hard at work rehearsing.

"Hey, I've got a bone to pick with you! When you said I'd be playing the leading character's best friend, this wasn't quite what I had in mind!"

Never work with children and stuffed animals .... unless the children are this cute.

"I told you not to use the super glue before we came to rehearsals."

"What is she doing? That's the worst bit of directing I've ever seen!"

"Now you're going to do it my way." Gerry Horan, who plays the role of the assistant director in the show, tries his hand at a bit of method acting.

"He thinks I don't know he's there, but I do," insists five-year-old Isaac.

Leah showing Rebecca how to think inside the box.

"No, Ithink you're meant to run towards me and I lift you into the air," explains Josh.

Shopaholic?

You might remember during our recent trip to Memphis I was stopped by a reporter in a shopping mall. He was writing for an on line publication alled Memphis Commercial Appeal.com. Today I came across a copy of the story on line, so here it is.
If he knew me, he'd realize how funny the idea of me driving myself around in a 'foreign' town, in a strange car with nothing but a GPS to guide me was, but he obviously didn't notice Grumpy glowering over my shoulder!

Lakeland Outlet Mall owners still plan redesign
By David Healy (Contact), Memphis Commercial AppealTuesday, December 30, 2008
The GPS system in Hilary Decent's rental car brought her to the Lakeland Outlet Mall Monday.
Hoping to get a few hours of shopping in before catching her flight home to Chicago, Decent left in minutes with empty hands and a puzzled look as to why a mall exists with so few stores still open.
"I see this really wasn't a top tourist destination," she said with a laugh.
The 29-year-old retail center looks like an omen of the worst economic predictions. Shoppers must walk through dark corridors to find the few stores that remain open.
But the mall's owner, California-based Gilad Development Inc., insists it's still committed to a redesign to make the place better than ever.
Rene Daniels, a spokeswoman for the company, said the stores are only closing in order for the redesign to begin. A few stores, like Old Time Pottery, will remain open during the transition.
However, Daniels declined to give any details about when the redesign will begin. She also wouldn't say whether any of the closing stores would be coming back.
Last year, the company announced that the redesign would begin in the spring of 2009 with an overhaul of the interior and exterior of the mall. The mall will be renamed Lakeland Station.
The rehab will incorporate an Americana theme with an electric train to carry customers through the mall and outside to the Annex.
City officials are crossing their fingers that it will still happen.
"We are just hoping that when things clear up a little bit in the economy they can get started," Lakeland City Manager Robert Wherry said.
-- David Healy: 529-5880

Outside In

Ever since I first set foot in Naperville, I've enjoyed peaking in from the outside. I'd observe the ladies who lunch downtown, note strange little quirks like people dressed as the Statue of Liberty waving at cars during tax season, and discovered that although the women here may have the outward appearance of Stepford wives, the reality is they are much more savvy and smart than that.
This week I suddenly noticed a change. Much as I enjoy my role as observer, I think I've moved to the inside. Attending my weekly Rotary meeting today, I realised that more and more people I meet seem to know who I am. I shook hands with Mayor Pradel, and personally invited him to the show. Not sure yet if he can come, but at least he knew who I was.
I have more work, more exposure and seem to be able to get things done. If I initiate, or take part in a project, people want to help.
Is this a normal process, I wonder? I've never lived in a 'foreign' country before. Maybe there's a right of passage everyone goes through in starting a new life, before they settle in. Sometimes I'm shocked when I get to the evening before realising I haven't thought about life back in England.
One thing that scares me is how much I've changed in the past few months. Hob nobbing with all these strong American women has rubbed off. Heck, today I even bought a couple of suits. I've never been so opinionated in my life. I have something to say about everything.
Well, that's it for now. Grumpy'll be home in a minute and I haven't made his dinner yet...

Not Entirely Happy Birthday

On this very day, 25 years ago, I gave birth to my first child, Orphan No. 1. (Obviously he wasn't called that then, largely because it would have seemed like a really bad omen). It was a traumatic day with a long labour followed by a difficult delivery. I'm pleased to say Grumpy was by my side throughout, if only because by gripping his hand for nearly 19 hours he got just a teeny bit of the pain I was suffering.
If I could have peeked into the future to today, I would have thought there was something wrong with the satellite signal.
Today I had to wish my little boy a happy birthday via a long distance phone call. We live on the other side of the world to each other, and not because he's moved anywhere. So far today I have given advice to an English journalism student who wants to profile me for a class project; written a feature about my somewhat eclectic piano teacher; secured a meeting with the Naperville Sun about some exciting new developments (I'll give you the scoop when I can); am trying to negotiate a place for Mrs Hammerstein and her quintet at Naperville Jazz Festival and done the ironing. Nearly. Later it's another rehearsal for my musical, Holy Neuteronomy!
As regular readers know, I love my life here in Naperville, and don't miss England at all. Except on days like this when I remember the years of opening presents, birthday parties and scraping jelly off the carpet. Happy Birthday, Robin.

Chocs Away

Had a great evening yesterday helping out at a concert put on by our cantor, Hasha Musha Perman, to celebrate her bat mitzvah year at Congregation Beth Shalom. Despite how it must sometimes look on this blog, not everything is about me, and I was happy to take a back seat, helping out with food etc. We staged a chocolate reception, an area well within my expertise.
Towards the end of the evening, however, I was approached by someone I had never seen before, who said she wanted to speak to me. This is not unusual. So I brushed myself down and put on my "however famous I am, I'll always have time for the little people" face.
"I simply had to ask you," she breathed. "Where did you get those little chocolate truffles? They're fabulous."