So John Edwards made it official today.  Although not directly.  He had someone tell the press that Quinn is his daughter.  You remember.  The woman he had an affair with had a baby.  He denied it was his child.  We all knew it was his child but he said it wasn’t.  Now he’s said she is his child.  Actually he didn’t say it.  He had someone say it for him.  Another fine upstanding high road move from John Edwards.

I just cant get it out of my head.  The image of John Edwards’ daughter Quinn looking back at all the media coverage surrounding her origins.  I get it.  People have affairs and kids are born of those affairs.  It happens way too often.  But when it happens in the public eye, it feels different.  And when your biological father goes on national television or is quoted in the national press denying that you are his daughter?   When his wife Elizabeth goes on record saying that she can tell by looking at you that you are not his?

It just feels so awful and despicable.

So I kept thinking about Quinn at age 15 and the next thing I knew I had blogged about it on The Huffington Post.  Featured on the Politics page  -  It’s called Quinn “Edwards” – 2025.  Have a read.

A mere 7/10 of a mile from my home  rests a small shopping area.   Watchung Plaza.  Named no doubt after a New Jersey based Native American tribe.   For the past 25 years, Eileen and I have lived in walking distance (693 steps as the pedometer counted it yesterday) and in fact, when we moved from our first Montclair home to our second and current, an important criterion was to remain within 800 steps of the Plaza – give or take 100.

I just learned moments ago that the Plaza (or as Ben called it when he was little, the Klaza) has its own website.  www.watchungplaza.com.  But don’t rush there.  It is still under construction and either they haven’t updated since the week before the last Halloween parade or they are really trying to get out in front this year.

Or maybe things are just busier than usual what with the new nail salon and all.

ARTEK opened recently, replacing the business offering financial advice that lasted a couple of weeks in that spot (not exactly a ringing endorsement for their services).

When I thought about the perfect retail outlet for the Klaza and something worth my 692 steps, I will confess.  I did not think nail salon.  Perhaps it is because I bite my nails.  I have bitten my nails for as long as I have had nails.  I haven’t ever even really tried to stop.  I always worried I would replace this habit with something more hazardous to my health.  I will futher admit that I don’t just bite them.  People look at my nails and cringe.  I’m not proud.  I’m just sayin.

But no.  I don’t think that’s why.  I think I wasn’t thinking nail salon because that base is already covered at Watchung Plaza.

I used to call the Plaza the Noah’s Arc of shopping areas.  There has, for as long as I can remember, been two of everything (except Mr. Dino’s Pizzeria which stands alone – as it should).  Two dry cleaners, two deli’s,  two places to get your haircut, couple of banks.

But things are officially out of hand now.  Eileen and I went for a walk yesterday (did I mention that I have a pedometer app on my iPhone?) and if you were at the Plaza yesterday around 9:30, I was the chick in the sweat pants taking pictures of all the nail salons.

In no particular order, here are photos of all the places you can get your nails done at Watchung Plaza.

This is The Beauty Connection.  For many years, I thought it was a front.  No one ever seemed to go in or out.  Now I realize that it’s because they sell the super expensive shampoos and conditioners that my daughter Kit has to have.  And they do nails.

This is Kit’s spot of choice.  Looks like she can have her nails done while I have the dent in the side of my Honda Pilot banged out.  Admittedly an odd combination.  And it’s right next door to the nice guy who sells every imaginable vacuum cleaner bag.  I’ve been going there for years.  I still buy the wrong size bag.

Prior to ARTEK, this was the newest entry to the Plaza.  La Belle Vie Spa.  Right next to the Christian Science Reading Room (also a new entry) (we pride ourselves on our commitment to diversity here in Montclair).  I had to peer into the window of this one and I will admit.  I had to assume they did nails.  Why shouldn’t they?  It’s Watchung Plaza after all.

And yes, that is me in the picture.  Chick in sweat pants with iPhone energetically taking pix of nail salons.

But of all the nail salons, this is my favorite.

I call this place Sushi Nails.  I’m still stinging about this.  When it was under construction, I thought – Yippee, a second sushi place within steps (you know how many) of my home.  And then it opened.

A nail salon.  I felt betrayed.  Angry.  Not vengeful.  I really have nothing against people who get their nails done.  With the possible exception of my 15 year old and 20 year old daughter who use our hard-earned money to get theirs done.

So make no mistake.  I wish all these establishments only success.  I love Watchung Plaza.  My kids have grown up there.  We have frequent flyer miles at Dino’s and Sunrise Bagels.  The folks at Reliable Cleaners notice when I buy something new.  Watchung Booksellers has been my favorite bookstore ever since it was in that great upstairs location.  And the guys at American Hardware never roll their eyes at me.  Ever.

I wish ARTEK Nail Salon the best of luck.  For that matter, I wish them all the best of luck.  I’m all about the success of my local businesses here in town.

And while I take the more economical route when it comes to manicures, I suppose there is always the pedicure option.  Maybe that would be nice.  I do like reflexology.  Is it like that?  No?  Oh, they try to make your feet LOOK nice?

Forget it.

Not just one hit in today’s Newark Star Ledger.  Although that would be enough (Diyenu! says the shiksa).  I do have an op ed running in the Sunday paper today (click on the article picture to read – no squinting necessary).  So yes, I am excited about that.

BUT WAIT. There is more.

On page 10 of Section A you will find our second hit.  Thus the title of this post.

You see, last year around this time, we had a commercial shoot in our home.  And while I remember the nice check we recevied, I also have very fond memories of learning the definition of the phrase “Craft Services.”  This means that the cast and crew who spent two full days in our home ate like complete pigs the whole time they were here.   But not just any food.  Omelettes, baked muffins, homemade soups.  I think there may have even been a pig on a spit.  Not sure.

Fortunately the cast of the commercial steered clear of the craft services – our porch furniture may not have held up.

Anyway, here is a photo taken on our porch of some woman who had used Chantix as a tool to stop smoking.  If you go to their website, there are a number of videos posted – all taken in our living room.

I need to tell you that I think Eileen kind of squealed when she saw the Chantix ad.  I don’t remember squealing when we landed on the op ed.   I’m just sayin.

This picture was taken of me and my partner Eileen in 1981.   I know we look fabulous, but don’t you dare say it out loud.  You can think it in your head that we look so young but I’d just prefer not to spread it around.   As an aside I should point out that while I am short, I am not as short as I look here.  I was seated.

We met a month before my niece Maura was born.  She just turned 28 and she just got engaged.   We are thrilled for her (actually she is thrilled for herself which is even nicer).

I won’t be getting married anytime soon.  At least not in New Jersey.  Yesterday the New Jersey State Senate failed to pass a marriage equality bill.  So Eileen and I will just have to continue shacking up.

We’ll just have to continue going to great lengths to protect our relationship with each other and with our kids as best we can.  We’ll just have to continue keeping our fingers crossed that we don’t encounter a homophobic ambulance driver, employer, airline security official – the list goes on.  Because without all the rights and protections that come with a marriage license, we live at risk.  Our kids are not as well protected as they SHOULD be.

Do I sound bitter?  Not as bitter as Eileen.  She has threatened on more than one occasion to refuse to pay taxes.  I would really miss her if she did time.   And she’d be a legal stranger and that would make visitation problematic I bet.

I have so much to say on this topic.  I want to talk about how many of my kids’ friends marriages went down in flames these last 20 years.  I want to talk about the day I officiated my nephew’s wedding and what that felt like.  I want to talk about the day my daughter Kit was flabbergasted to learn that gay people could be single (she’d only met gay couples).  She said (age seven), “Oh, I thought you had to be married if you were gay.”

I have a lot to talk about.  But I should take it one post at a time.  So here’s one for you to read – just published on The Newark Star Ledger’s site:  New Jersey Marriage Bill:  An Unhappily Unmarried Mom Weighs In.

Garden State Honda Waiting Room

Back in the day, waiting for your car to be serviced was nothing but a headache.  They would tell you 45 minutes and an hour an half later, you’d still be waiting.  How many times could you thumb through US Magazine?   Then car dealers got a little smarter.  They added TV’s in the waiting area.  Pretty good.  Then free coffee.  OK, works for me.  Then little snacks.  Granola bars, bags of chips.  I’m starting to feel the love.

But Garden State Honda in Passaic, New Jersey takes it all to a new level. It is the Mecca of car dealer waiting experiences.  I know.  I was there this morning for two hours.

I had the best time.

My needs are pretty simple.  Give me a table, an electric outlet, wifi and a cold Diet Coke and I am pretty happy.  Well, that is just the beginning at Garden State Honda.

You have your fresh bagels – neatly prepared and organized, one section with cream cheese, one with butter and one plain.  Flavored coffees and a fridge with waters and juices.

Now I should clarify.  They did not make the bagels nor to the best of my knowledge did they squeeze the juice.  But I will tell you that during my last visit, THEY BAKED A CAKE!  Can you imagine?   One of the auto technicians seemed to demonstrating his broad range of skills – whipped up the cake, removed from an oven, sliced it up and put it out for the terribly calm and content waiting masses.  It was awesome.

But wait there is more.   A video game room.  Separate.  Like a sound proof booth.  Here it is.  As you can see, none of us took advantage of it.   So many other options.

But the best thing about the Garden State Honda waiting room?  A brilliant design choice to compensate for the lack of windows.

An aquarium.  You can see it in the first photo but let me offer you a slightly better view.

The Garden State Honda Aquarium

One more thing.  The camera on my new iphone?   Awesome.

Here’s a shot of me and my mother.    Joan Garry and Joan Garry.  Yes, we both have the same names.  And the same hats too.

My mother had emergency eye surgery this weekend and  I won’t bury the lead. She is doing quite nicely.

This photo was taken by a nurse right after my mother had put all her regular clothes in that plastic bag they give you.  You see, I had just gotten a new iphone and was sitting in the adjacent cubicle dressing in my own cap and gown so I could hang with my mother before her surgery.  I thought it might be fun to take a picture of myself.  I was sitting there and threatening to use my new phone to take a picture of my mother from the back (gown open in back).  She did not find me funny.  At all.

And then the nurse heard the banter.  “Why don’t I get a shot of the two of you?”   Well I just thought this was the best.  But never in a million years did I think my mom would agree.

As you can see, she also thought it was an inspired idea.

While she was in surgery, I continued to explore the functionality of my iphone and sent the photo along to family members awaiting an update.  I did a very nice job except I inadvertently sent the photo to a gentleman named Greg Torborg.

I can’t imagine what he was thinking.  Mother / daughter lobotomies perhaps?

I”ve written a piece this morning for The Newark Star Ledger offering my top ten tips for accompanying your aging parent to the hospital for surgery - I hope you’ll have a read.  And yes, it involves bringing a camera.

It is just amazing how cluttered a garage can become.  One minute it is so neat and tidy and you are sweeping out the last two leaves, marveling at your handiwork.  Then it seems like only days later that you are heaving things (big things) into the garage without even looking.  And then in just no time at all,   it is once again a big fat mess.

But now, I offer you the perfect solution.  I call it “DON’T BOTHER!”

Find yourself frustrated that your car won’t fit in that garage of yours?  Don’t worry.  Don’t bother.

Just give up and go buy a cover for your car.  Do be careful when making the purchase.  You have to make sure you have the right size to cover the car’s cute little ears.

I love this book.  Because it is an age appropriate book about two males who raise a baby together.  And because it is a true story.  It really happened at the Central Park Zoo.  Roy and Silo were inseparable as a couple for six years at the zoo.  They wanted to raise a baby so badly that they tried to hatch a rock (perhaps not the brightest bulbs).  So the zookeepers gave them an egg to hatch.  And they did.  And in so doing, they created a family.

It’s a lovely and remarkable story and one of the best and one of the few books that give kids of gay couples (or their friends) any images of gay families.

And while you can find it at Scholastic online, you won’t find it on any tables at any of the book fairs that come around to schools this time of year.

And yes this bugs me.  And yes I wrote about it for The Star Ledger this morning.  And yes, I’m hoping you will read it.  It’s called “Kids of Gay Families and Scholastic Book Fair Season.”

Look.  I know I am no longer welcome in this club.   And while I think this photo is hilarious, it does not evoke fond memories of my devotion to Catholicism.    As I believe I have mentioned before, it only really stands as evidence that I did wear a dress once and that I did get a watch as a gift that year.  And it is also about as close as I will ever get to a wedding dress (but if I have something to do with – and i do!) but not a marriage license.

I was watching NBC Evening News last night.  Albeit in about 45 second bursts.  It was Halloween you see and 6:30pm is absolutely peak traffic time here in my New Jersey neighborhood.

But when this segment came on, I kept the ghouls waiting.  A piece about the marriage equality battle in Maine.  I learned that the Catholic Church is leading the opposition.  No real surprise there.

But what I learned is that Maine’s Catholic Churches are passing TWO BASKETS each Sunday during this battle. One to cover the bingo cards (OK, and the priest’s salaries – sorry, I’m getting bitter) and ONE TO FUND THE FIGHT AGAINST MARRIAGE EQUALITY.

I guess I should not be surprised but I am absolutely beside myself.  I posted this on my Facebook page last night and people commented that they thought it might be illegal.

I don’t know about that but I do know that it is not at all catholic (small ‘c’ intended).

In case you didn’t know, “catholic” with a small “c” has a very specific and clear definition.  Just ask Webster.

With a small ‘c’ it is an adjective meaning “broad or wide-ranging in tastes, or the like; having sympathies with all; broad-minded; liberal.”  The second definition listed:  “universal in extent; involving all; of interest to all.”

My mom typically spends Christmas with us here in Montclair, N.J. and I accompany her to Christmas morning mass.  It is my one annual appearance inside a Catholic Church (unless a niece or nephew marries or one of the offspring of said nieces and nephews are baptized).  It’s fine.  I even sing along with the carols – I just simply can’t resist the opportunity to harmonize.   I never go to receive communion.  That would just seem hypocritical.  And it actually feels wrong.

But when the basket is passed, I have my $20 at the ready and I toss it right in the basket after my mother has done her tossing.

It never struck me before that this was hypocritical.  Or even that I was funding the Catholic Church.  Or that I was donating to a cause that actively worked to deny my constitutional rights.  A cause that fuels anti-gay bias which leads in a million different directions.

I just thought it was nice.  I thought I was being catholic (small ‘c’ intended).

I hope I remember to do this but I am going to print out the article about what the church is doing in Maine and put it in an envelope and toss it in the basket as it passes on Christmas morning.

Maybe  I’ll include this picture too.  And a picture of my family.  With my mother.  Who goes to church nearly every day.

Now that strikes me as a donation with real value.

How exciting to learn that Sean Hannity reads my work. I don’t care much that he doesn’t agree. If fact, I consider it a gold star to have someone like Hannity dismiss me. I have been on many of these shows in my day and no one was more dismissive than Sean Hannity. Even Bill O’Reilly you say? Yup. Bill O’Reilly is a pretty nice guy all things considered and he really does let you make a point. Hannity couldn’t care less. You are simply a prop for his monologue.

So thanks for the good press Sean. Oh, and one last thing. I’d like you to look at the picture I included in my post below. Kevin does not look like an evil monster does he? Now look at the embedded video still shot. This comes to you from “fair and balanced” Fox News Channel. “We report, you decide,” they tell us.

I know what I’ve decided.