Listen, darlings, I am not going to be upstaged by Jennifer Aniston!!!!! I mean, suppose I wore fishnets, like Madonna!! That would cause a bigger stir!!!!!
Now, it is time to resume our journey through HP!!! After the DQ, we rode down Eighth Avenue, with those cherry blossom tree islands still dominating. And all the houses--the Engebretsens, the Sveds, the Cohens, the Wysokers (I couldn't STAND them!!!), my grandmother's friend, Mrs. Deck, on the corner of Eighth and Abbot Street, and Aimee Rottman's off to the side, on Abbot Street. Alongside Wysokers, on Abbot, stood Reva Levine's old house. (Oh, and don't forget my sister's friend, Diane Camins, old house on Eighth. And those disgusting Mindels in that huge, Tara-like place!!!! I can still hear Margaret saying, "I can't stand that Meg Mindel!!!" And to think that Meg's older sister, Sunny--who never gets blue, I bet!!--is a spokeswoman for Giuliani??? Isn't that something???) Further down was the Eltringham house, or what once was, still standing. And right on the corner of Fifth and Abbot, across from the high school, was my classmate Rhonda Farhi's house. You know who lived there, before the Farhis???? Ronald Axelrad and his family. I am telling you, this was the town where everyone knew everyone!!!!!
The high school, that hallmark and nightmare of my existence, has grown out and about, like Mothra spreading her butterfly wings. When I lived here, it was the height of the Baby Boom; that has died down, and most of us Boomers ("BOOOOOOOMER!" I can still hear Blanche Miller calling one of her children!!!!) moved on, so the child population dwindled, to where the elementary schools became two, and the high school now houses grades 6-12!!!!! Can you imagine mixing kids so far apart at such a critical age range???? I don't know about that!!!!!!
Next, we drove past the red Brooks' house, onto Dennison Street, in front of my classmate, Lenise Bunn, who still resides there, next to where the Farrells used to live. This was SO mysterious; I had phoned Lenise the night before, but could not get through, had sent an email, which came back unsent. When I went up to the house, between 4 and 5PM on Saturday afternoon, the car was in the driveway, the outside door was open, and so was the house door, leading in. I mean, I could see inside. I was not about to walk in unannounced, so, after two bell rings and knocks apiece, I returned to the car. Sorry, Lenise, but at least I tried.
From there, we drove over to the world famous President Streets. If not world famous, they are HP famous, because everyone in town who ever lived in HP, knows them. Lincoln, Harrison, Grant and Cleveland Avenues. This was the HP equivalent of the Garden District in New Orleans, and, in my day, most of the kids from here went to Hamilton School, and because of such got all the attention all through school!!!! Which I had to contend with, and still carry some resentment about!!!!
However, on a second look, I had to agree with my fellow travelers; it did not look as elegant over there as it once did (though there were traces), because the properties were not being as kept well. At least I got to thumb my nose at the Dykemans' house, and, over on Lincoln and Fifth, the former homes of those Social Princesses Roberta and Nedra!!!!! I felt SOOOOOOOO much better!!!!!!!!!!!!
My sister's friend, Evelyn, from high school, had been raised on Grant, but now resides on Harrison. I stopped there, and she graciously invited me in, and we conversed, as she had not seen me since I was, well, a toddler!!!! We discussed my sister, their friend Vivian (I told Evelyn the "Auntie Em" story, and she loved it), and our common association with Seton Hall University--her husband had taught there, and I went there!!!! Speaking of association, thanks to reconnecting with Margaret and Co., I am Six Degrees From Meryl Streep; their Aunt Genevieve, darlings (whom I always thought was a nun!!!!) worked with Meryl Streep's father, for years!!!!!! So I am now that much closer to lunch with Meryl!!!!! OK, Meryl????????????
The sun was lowering, the day nearly done. The weather had cooperated. So, Paul drove us back to New Brunswick; Mary Anne, to her Aston Martin DB 4 on Patterson Street, and Monsieur and I to the bus station, where we hopped on back to the city. Now, I knew Monsieur was disappointed at not encountering the notorious Janice Gonnella, but I think, first of all, the church would have been locked early in the day, and, second, I did not want him disturbed by seeing such a tarnished, embittered, Creature Of Spinster Isolation!!!!!
Still, we waxed rhapsodic about our observations on the way back. He just adored Margaret, Mary Anne (who are no Baldwin sisters, darling!!!!!) and Paul; hell, who wouldn't? Speaking of sisters, I will have to relate my conversation with my sister the following day, when I discovered I was six degrees removed from the sisters on Harrison Ave who owned the big, yellow mansion. But not enough to be considered for the property, dammit!!!!!!
The most telling remark came from Monsieur, when I asked him what he had learned. He turned to me, and said, "Michael, I learned you had a charmed life."
In spite of all the high school craziness, I guess I did. For which I am extremely grateful. And to Margaret, Mary Anne and Paul, for whom I am also grateful, and so glad to be in touch with again!!!!!!
And so we bid adieu!!!! A bientot, darlings!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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