Saturday, January 10, 2009

Tony & Me

The snow is piling up. It's Saturday night. Must be a mad house for the movies...the ones who are brave enough to venture out.

Me? Well, I have my dog, Tony. True, Saturday night is not what it used to be. Friends are coupled off doing what they do...and I remember how it used to be.

I never used to eat alone and finish a bottle of Cabernet - the same one I started last night. I had a little head cold and it didn't taste right...but tonight - it's good and I drank the rest. The buzz made me talk out loud as I watched the snow fall from my front window. I held my Tony in my arms. He listened intently. He licked my face. He's the perfect man.

I remember how Mimi Scott, my partner in Manhattan Playwrights, Inc. insisted she hold the weekly meetings on Sunday. Our group met for 2 hours and I drove from Merrick, Long Island an hour each way to her apartment on the Upper West Side. I complained.

"Why Sunday? It's a family day."

She is 10 years older than me. She's a widow. She told me that Sunday is the loneliest day of the week. I understand now. Saturday night is no picnic, either.

I'm sorry, Mims...

Happily, Tony loves the snow. I put his little coat on and hooked his leash...He sneezed a few times. He sneezes when he's excited. I slipped on my snow boots and took my keys and my phone (in case I fell and hit my head and needed to let someone know I'm laying right on my block unable to move because I finished that bottle of Cabernet.)

Off we went - down the steps and free to romp in that white stuff still lightly adding to the one inch of accumulation. (some snowstorm) I put my hood up. That told me I'm not too drunk to NOT care about my hair. To not care about my hair...I'd have to be unconscious.

We ran. We lifted our leg...well, Tony lifted his leg. He did a number 2 and I covered it with snow. Am I a rebel? Jimmy hated the snow, the cold and so often said,

"Why are we living in a refrigerator?"

I was so grateful that Tony loves the snow. I told Jimmy.

" It's invigorating. The cold, the weather you can makes you feel alive! What do you know about staying alive?"

No answer. Never an answer. I wiped off Tony's paws with a dry towel and we kinda sorta smiled at each other.

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