SATURDAY EPIFHANY

I had it today, unlike other days that the truth is mettled or opaque or I am distracted. It reminds me of one of the wisdoms my father passed on to me: ” You can fool the whole world little sweetheart, but you can’t fool yourself.” I was a teen, when he passed on this mantra of living, now, today on a sunny Solana Beach go to the beach or racetrack day, I sit here and contemplate who I was fooling and why.

At some point in my thirties, I decided to outperform convention: marriage, children, my career, and lead without warnings, without proven methods, I thought experimentation was my path. I changed careers, moved to multiple locations, and threw the dice on finances. I can’t truly say no regrets, adventures in livingness brings growth, but the bank account needs growth too! My gang, assures me I’ll get back on the track, thank God for friends that believe in us, right! I don’t need five million followers, just my five fly over me forever friends.

On the track, earlier this week I had a conversation about the Del Mar Horseraces. The race track at Del Mar is on and my friend goes several days a week,

” It‘s really a lot of fun. Why don’t you come sometime and get away from editing?”

” I’ve told you, haven’t I? My dad gambled on everything: horses, sports, the academy awards, and at lunch, if the fly would go out the open window. If I win, I know, I’ll get addicted.”

” Oh, yes, I forgot you mentioned that.”

So, the dice throwing is in remission, going forward: manage impulse, unconventional living, be sensible, pragmatic and use proven methods.

Solana Beach masses are at the beach or the track, and I’m editing. ( deleted 25 pages today because people don’t read 400 page books) You know why I can do it? Because I spent my glorified years going to the beach, the track, partying, parading, and popping.

ADVENTURES IN MOVING TO CALIFORNIA

Featured ~ LouLou ~ Leave a comment

If you’ve read my columns about minimalistic living: adapting to Solana Beach health, wealth and wardrobe conformity (female: leggings, workout bra, or at night show it or stow it. Male, bare-chested or T-shirt with their business logo on the back.) I add this confession, if the community residents were any happier than what I’ve observed I’d get therapy.

This week I became LEGITIMATE.

My New Mexico driver’s license expired in Sept 2024. I was living in my home in Saratoga, and attempted to gather the fourteen documents to show proof of residence, and get a NY driver’s license. I loved my turquoise NM license plates, and did not think I’d be there longer than a year, so I didn’t renew. I drove sparingly, as the village was in walking distance and I had Amazon delivery.

In January 2026 I moved into a hotel in Del Mar, CA and my car was transported by an auto moving company. I spent about thirty hours reviewing the documents I needed to get a CA license moving from out of state. I managed to get registration through my CA insurance agent, and CA auto insurance but DMV wanted proof of residence, (hotels not accepted) so I used Uber. I finally found my studio in May, and used all my time furnishing, and avoided the DMV. Friends offered to drive me there, and they or I got sidetracked.

Finally, a friend here said,

“ Loulou you’ve got to get it done. We’ll go Monday, this week.” I bought the cheat sheet, (out of staters have to take the written test) and studied it all weekend. Andrew, my friend, we met at five years old, called and said,

“ Did you get an appointment?”

“There’s a line of twenty-five, and besides the dice didn’t roll to seven.”

“Loulou, forget the dice and the line, they go fast.”

“ I’ll be over at ten o clock.”

I panicked and reviewed my folder of documents the online DMV said I needed: Birth certificate, certificate of sale, insurance, registration, social security card, proof of residence , passport, and DMV security code.

My phone maps app was taken over by google so I couldn’t access directions, I kept getting an error. So, I handwrote them on a page and met Andrew.

“ You have the directions on GPS, I don’t know where San Marcos is exactly, do you?”

“Not to make this more complex, I couldn’t access the app so I wrote them down.”

“ That’s good, you have all your documents?”

“ Everything but height and weight,” He laughed and we took off on the freeway. Andrew is a conversant man and because we grew up in the same class through high school we can speak, uninhibited. Childhood friends shared innocence, and the rarity of calculated devious behavior. Our trust is dependable and accountable.

“Do you know why I wore all pink?”

“Cause you … I have no idea.”

“ Men and women love pink, so if I get a male clerk, he’ll like it and so will a female.”

“ Where’d you get that tidbit?”

“Me, people like pink, and a search, pink evokes love and compassion.” Our conversation leaped from old friends to our parent’s, to tech complaints, going canoeing on a lake we passed, diet, aging, politics, antisemitism (we’re both Jewish) and then…

“ Do we turn here?”

“ Yes, we go east and then turn on San Marcos Boulevard for one mile and then Rancheros for three miles, and then..

“Okay, two directions at a time.”

After five miles of driving through residential neighborhoods, I knew we were lost. Andrew listened when I suggested we turn back, and we finally arrived at the DMV.

“My ex wouldn’t listen to my directions for thirty-five years. Thank you for listening! You know men are famous for refusing driving directions.”

“Hey, I’m perfect”

To be continued.

High School.

WRITER’S REALITY

Featured ~ LouLou ~ Leave a comment

JOURNAL SEPTEMBER 2022

I was walking the streets, and the descriptive details had since evaporated. I mentally pluck myself out of this moment and open the shades to thought and memory, where all writers meet on some psychic level, the place of imagination and creation, an abnormality of reality.

A passage from Anais Nin’s diary says, “Be careful not to enter the world with any need to seduce, charm, conquer what you do not want, only for the sake of approval. This is what causes the frozen moment before people and cuts all naturalness and trust. The real wonders of life lie in the depths. Exploring the depths for truth is the real wonder which the child and the artist know: magic and power lie in truth.”

FRIENDSHIP DANCES OVER POLITICS

Featured ~ LouLou ~ Leave a comment

FROM ZORBA THE GREEK – A TALE OF FRIENDSHIP

Friends are bookends that bind our stories; some are novellas, some are poems, some are cinematic, and each friend serves as a bookend to our personal history. When I’ve lost my way and need direction my friends motorize me, and when I fly without wings, they ring the bell to come down to earth. At times, arguments arise and my friendships stray, but true-life friends never leave you behind. Sometimes, years may pass, and then one day you receive a call or an email, or send one yourself, and the memory of that particular squabble in history fades away. You can start anew; at the same time, it is not.

The essence of friendship never burns out; it is our galaxy, a kind of celestial agility. Are you experiencing a startling outpouring from friends who’ve left your life only to suddenly show up on your social media or a personal email? Are your friends calling and writing more often? I’m always examining some unfamiliar events in life, a new trend, a cultural change. Seems like every topic can be mixed with politics, sometimes the mixture is explosive. I’ve halted the political discussions, and so have my friends, as they are more important to my livingness than politics. With one exception, antisemitism, those are excluded!

EVERYDAY EXCLUSIONS

Featured ~ LouLou ~ Leave a comment

Mayor Zohran Mamdani’s immigrant neighborhood map highlights 30 NYC neighborhoods but has sparked controversy for omitting historic Italian, Irish, and Jewish communities.

Overview of the Map

The map, released by Mayor Mamdani’s Office of Immigrant Affairs, is part of the “NYC Immigrant Enclaves” guide tied to the city’s World Cup tourism initiative. It identifies neighborhoods with substantial foreign-born populations, including Chinatown, Little Palestine (Bay Ridge, Brooklyn), Little Egypt (Astoria, Queens), and Little Pakistan (Newkirk Plaza, Brooklyn) NewsNation+1. The guide highlights 30 neighborhoods in total, aiming to showcase New York City’s diverse international communities NewsNation.

Controversy and Omissions

The map has drawn criticism for excluding historically significant immigrant communities, particularly:

Little Italy (Manhattan) and other Italian-American neighborhoods such as Arthur Avenue (Bronx), Bensonhurst (Brooklyn), Howard Beach (Queens), and South Staten Island IJR.
Irish-American neighborhoods, including Woodlawn Heights (Bronx) and the western Rockaway peninsula (“Irish Riviera”) in Queens IJR.
Jewish enclaves, including Borough Park, Midwood, Williamsburg, Crown Heights (Brooklyn), and parts of Far Rockaway (Queens), as well as Bukharian Jewish communities in Queens The Jewish Chronicle.
Italian-American and Jewish groups have accused the administration of “cultural erasure”, arguing that these omissions ignore communities that historically shaped New York City The Jewish Chronicle+1. The Italian-American Civil Rights League stated that Little Italy is “sacred ground” and called for the map to be corrected and for an apology from the mayor IJR.

A WRITER’S PATH

Featured ~ LouLou ~ Leave a comment

To write, to study, read, edit, I sacrificed: family, marriage, children, security, finances, and peace of mind. I am a columnist, and author, that lives with a constant source of material by those sacrifices. They have become my vortex of adventures in livingness to gain material. At times, like now, I question that path–and the answer is, I didn’t choose the path, it chose me.

HOLOCAUST REMEMBRANCE DAY

July 6, 2026July 3, 2026 ~ LouLou ~ 1 Comment

Excerpt from Robert Rockaway’s book. “BUT HE WAS GOOD TO HIS MOTHER. ”

A Haganah emissary, Reuvin Dafni, who came to the United States in 1946 to raise money for the Haganah, also met with some well-known Jewish gangsters. Dafni had been born in Croatia in 1913. He immigrated to Palestine in 1936 where he became one of the founders of Kibbutz Ein Gev. In 1940, he joined the Jewish Brigade of the British army. In 1944, he parachuted with other paratroopers behind enemy lines into Yugoslavia and joined the partisans. After the war, he returned to his kibbutz. He did not stay there long. In 1946, the Haganah sent him to the United States to raise funds.

A few months later, the Haganah sent Dafni to Los Angeles. One day, he received an intriguing phone call from a man who identified himself as “Smiley” and requested a meeting. When they met, Smiley asked Dafni to “Tell me what you’re doing. My boss is interested.” Smiley’s boss turned out to be Benjamin “Bugsy” Siegel. Smiley was Allen Smiley, Siegel’s right-hand man.

Smiley arranged a meeting between Siegel and Dafni at the LaRue restaurant. At the appointed time, Smiley and Dafni went into an empty room at the rear of the restaurant. After a few moments, Smiley left, leaving Dafni alone. Soon two tough-looking goons entered and searched the room. When they were satisfied it was safe, they left.

Shortly thereafter, Siegel came in. He sat opposite Dafni and asked him to tell why he was in Los Angeles. As Dafni relates, “I told him my story, how the Haganah was raising money to buy weapons with which to fight. When I finished, Siegel asked, ‘You mean to tell me Jews are fighting?’ Yes, I replied. Then Siegel, who was sitting across the table, leaned forward till his nose was almost touching mine. ‘You mean fighting, as in killing?’ Yes, I answered. Siegel leaned back, looked at me for a moment and said, ‘OK, I’m with you.’ ”

“From then on,” recalled Dafni, “Every week I got a phone call to go to the restaurant. And every week I received a suitcase filled with $5 and $10 bills. The payments continued till I left Los Angeles.” Dafni estimates that Siegel gave him a total of $50,000.

TRADITIONAL AND NON-TRADITIONAL

Featured ~ LouLou ~ Leave a comment

FREINDS, FAMILY AND FIREWORKS, Not me. Leave out the friends and family. But not the fireworks. I haven’t been here long enough to make new friends, and the ones I would call are out of town or playing homebase to avoid the traffic. The first day free of mind bending, sneezing, coughing and body thrashing over the last two weeks with bronchitis subsided. I even mentioned to a friend. ‘the best thing about suffering is when it ends.’ The last time I had the flu was 2011.

New York. I couldn’t abate watching the fleet parade along the Hudson or the fly overs above the Statue of Liberty, or pay very close attention to the historical narrative on the sacrifices our founders lived and died for, so we can celebrate today and tomorrow. What a juxtaposition between the insignificance of being sick and taking a bullet. The day of history and visuals had me looking up every founder, and significant document, dates, places and rendering the Saratoga Battlefield visit with Jx years ago.

“Site of the historic 1777 Battles of Saratoga, which represented the first significant victory for the rebels in the American Revolution. Today, the 3,200-acre park is a popular tourism and recreation site and a wildlife conservation area.”

I took myself out to dinner across the street at the Brigantine, folded into a room filled with chatting staff, guest’s conversation, and a panoramic view of the fairgrounds and Del Mar mountain tops. I sat in the center, unusual for me I usually cling to a wall, but this restaurant has become a sanctuary for socializing, or just being solo, either way I’ve never left disappointed.

“ You dropped this outside the bathroom,” a young shaggy blonde hair boy of twelve or thirteen handed it to me.

“Oh! Thank you so much, that is very thoughtful.’’ He shied, dropped his head in that way that makes adults wonder why we became so different, and left.

Then later on, as I was outside on the terrace enjoying the view of the fair, I noticed him and a woman next to me. We started to talk, I think she liked my necklace or my pants or something and I saw the little boy and I said is that your son? She said yes and I told her the story. She introduced me to her husband, the uncle, the children, the other children’s parents. And when she left, she hugged me. That kind of intervention makes the difference for a single person.

EVENING. After watching the DC extravaganza, I walked outdoors, to the corner, the street was back to back traffic, helicopters, neighbors’ standing on sidewalks and on our property, and I looked up at the start of a Del Mar Fairgrounds fireworks show that stopped me short.

https://x.com/nypost/status/2073425831339151535?s=20

July 4, 2026 ~ LouLou ~ Leave a comment

MEMORY LOSS IN POSSESSIONS

Featured ~ LouLou ~ Leave a comment

My possessions in Saratoga Springs now appear as decorations from a former celebration, like side dishes of over 20 years of mixing and matching prints, drapes, sofas, chairs, tables, vases, and artwork. Now they’ve been removed from my experimental minimalistic living. A former lifecycle that began twenty-five years ago, and are boxed up in a big POD storage. And I refuse to meet them in the present. Friends ask me, ‘when are you bringing your furniture here?’ I can’t answer in words, it must crystallize like it has this past week, when I missed my wardrobe and art hangings. Within the admired art, clothes, and sixty-two boxes, (I looked at my inventory) are a haunting of memories tied in see thru knots of Dodger, my x. As a confirmed refuser of goodbyes, in any relationship, this one has to be nurtured with precision, and that means, no reminders.

The stark white walls and Amazon assembled furnishing are stationed without emotion, memory or love. Functional, practical and unfamiliar. Ive created a new palette, like my first studio in Los Angeles in 1976. Then the others, studios over the years, small, compact, easy to maneuver and clean. Internally, the walls and shelves are cluttered with decisions. The edits on my book from the publisher, when will I find employment? How to engage in new friendships, clubs, gyms, meetups.

Singleness in a city, that was once my home for twenty years, evolved through generations, adding new policies, laws, regulations, real estate development, customs, and an impressionable celebration of the arts and culture. It has no resemblance to the San Diego I met in 1983, except for the ocean and the bordering cliffs and seawalls. That is where a continuous rolling of memory waves sear my view, and I see my youthful delight in San Diego. I’ve always been impressed with people who truly live in the present, can’t figure that one out, maybe I’m just a past time girl.

WHY JEWS NOW? THE NAZI’S ELIMINATED ONE THIRD OF THE JEWISH POPULATION.

Featured ~ LouLou ~ 1 Comment

My first experience with antisemitism was at twenty years old. I was working for a Bank in Beverly Hills in the loan department. One day my supervisor gathered us around and told a joke. I cannot remember it exactly, I do remember that he compared Pizza in the oven to Jews in the Holocaust gas chambers. I told my father. He ordered me to call the President of Gibraltar S & L and repeat the comment. The president was Jewish. I did so. I was assigned a new supervisor, and the supervisor was not fired. .

When I moved to San Diego in 1983, I witnessed derogatory comments about Jews, I don’t look what is the stereotype Jewish female, so people assume I am not. My father had passed and wasn’t there to advise me. If I was in a social or business situation, and offensive Jewish comments were made, I remained silent and never went back to whatever event I had joined. I was more interested in what people thought, then reprimanding them.

That all changed over the years, and I am emboldened to announce my Jewish heritage. I still hear that vapid response, ” I have a really good friend who is Jewish.” Or “You don’t look Jewish.”

I am not prepared for what has mobilized into a national campaign promise from some politicians, antisemitism. What? Are we in Germany? Who started this and who will end it? Are Jews protesting? I don’t see it. How many non-Jews celebrated the return of the hostages, or the end of the Gaza War? Why hasn’t a film been made about this historical event. I hope and pray I’m wrong, but antisemitism is in vogue. And who follows trends, the youth.