The 7 Words my Son Said That Broke My Heart

Just yesterday, I gave birth to a bouncing baby boy. He was 8 lbs 7 oz. 22 inches long and with all his fingers and toes. A beautiful, healthy baby. Holy sh*t, did he blindside me. I never thought I could love anything as I much as I did that baby boy. Well, guess what? Said baby boy was 20 years old when he moved out. Away... from home. I've had good and bad days since he left. I was sad a lot. 20 years of taking care of him. Feeding, clothing, bathing... wait, I stopped that when he was a toddler. That's the wine talking. I look around and see so many of my younger friends in the midst of it all. How frazzled they all look. The baby years: When all you do is look at this thing you and your hubby made and wonder at the miracle of it all. They are totally dependent on you. The toddler years: When they take their first step away from you and become their own little person the first time they say no. The child years: The most fun years where everything they do is done with such joy. Oh, and the hugs and kisses. The tween years: The aforementioned joy is now DRAMA at every waking moment. You start thinking, why did I get pregnant? And you have to tell them "I promise I won't kiss you in front of your friends." The teen years: I was lucky, he was a great teenager. But for the rest of you... You really start worrying Who is this satan's spawn I gave birth to? And then, just like that, they leave. No warning at all. "Mom, it's time for me to go" Seven words that broke my heart, sniff. Him leaving home meant a various amount of things to me. He was an adult, I was getting older, I would actually have to talk to my husband. I knew this was the part of parenting that sucks. You hear other people say "Push them out of the nest and see them fly." I really don't know how birds do it. I bet when no one is looking there's a group of canaries drinking out of a spiked water fountain lamenting the loss of their chick. Look, I KNEW it was the right thing, but it's like one day we were driving along at this fast clip and suddenly, we screeched to a halt. Truth is, I missed him A LOT. My heart ached and I pulled away too just to make his transition easier. Don't even get me started on what THAT does to a Jewish mother. NOT being able to hover??? Oh, the humanity... I DIDN'T WANT TO STOP MOTHERING!!! I liked it too much. Everything about it. The dirty faces, the spills, the fights, the tears, the birthday parties, the house full of noisy kids after a little league game. I could go on, but you get my point. So, I made peace with it and said to my son Layne, "You're the light of my world, go out and soar kid, show 'em what you're made of. I'm already so proud of you." Fast-forward about a year later. Imagine my surprise around October of last year when my son mentioned to me that he was unhappy with his living arrangements. I had to word my response carefully, even though I was bursting at the seams, thrilled that my son wanted to return home. "Well," I said "If you really need to come home, I guess we'll make room." (Of course I wanted to do a happy dance right then and there but I held myself back.) A lot of my friends couldn't believe that I was letting him move back home. "What about your new-found freedom?" Yes, empty nesters, this is what you will hear when your child moves away: Freedom, vacations, hours of uninterrupted sex! Let's go over these, shall we? Freedom? From what? I still paid for his cell phone and groceries AND he came home to eat at least twice a week. Vacation? I'm a comedian, we don't DO vacations. My vacation is when I go on the road. And uninterrupted sex? Are you kidding me? I live with my mother-in-law who has no boundaries, so let's not even go there. To be honest, I am a nurturer, I like taking care of people, the more the merrier. When he moved out we of course did what every empty nester does -- we made his room into an office. We live in NYC where space is premium, so an extra room was heaven. And as much as we wanted him home my husband & I were not too thrilled about having to share our "office". It didn't help when he actually said to me, "Can't you move the computer back to your room?" And in typical New York style I told my son "Go Fuck Yourself" And yes, he still wanted to move back. During the holidays when he spent more time at our home then his own, I could tell he was ready to be mothered again. My favorite part of the holidays was when he and a bunch of kids he went to high school with showed up and just hung out for a few hours. For those brief moments, I was den mother all over again. Pizza was brought in, beer now instead of juice boxes and when they left to go to a party the house looked destroyed as it always did back then. And I smiled... he's home.

Aging out of My Career originally posted at Huffington Post 50

I have been a standup comedian since the fall of 1980. Back then, it was a novelty to be one. Hell, no one really understood what a standup comic was. And the only women hugely successful at that time were Phyllis Diller & Joan Rivers. My how times have changed. In the 30-odd years I have been slinging jokes, television had a run of comics in front of brick wall shows, comedy clubs opened all over America and oh yeah, the Internet. When I started out, you waited outside the club you wanted to work at all day, waiting for a number in which you then came back at the end of the night for the privilege of going onstage. It was a lot like waiting for tickets for a concert back then. I met some great comics on that line, Margaret Smith and Rita Rudner were just two. Paul Reiser was hosting, Bill Maher was one of the regulars, and a young guy named Jerry Seinfeld was the comic you HAD to see. If and when you got passed at the club you were given the lovely opportunity of going on late in the evening to a bunch of drunks. And that's how you got strong. Night after night, onstage with no-one paying attention to you. Sometimes the crowd was louder than you, sometimes you ducked from someone throwing a beer bottle during a fight. All in the name of getting your 10 minutes of jokes funnier. Eventually I ended up doing the New Jersey one-nighters. And that's exactly what it sounds like. Some restaurant with a room in the back with a bar figured "Hey it's empty here during the week, let's do a comedy show." We got paid, we got fed, we were in heaven. Around the late 80s comedy exploded. And we were all basking in the new found fame that standup comedy had brought. I did every TV show that showcased comedy in one year. I knew that returning to these shows would take another year so I decided to become pregnant. I was told being pregnant would ruin my career. Funny thing, I was back on television three months after my son was born. Nowadays there are a huge amount of comics with kids. Back then it was unheard of. I lived my life performing on the road and it was starting to get to me, leaving my young son at home. So to give him somewhat of a normal childhood, I moved to Las Vegas to work in production shows. Yes, you read that right, Las Vegas & NORMAL childhood. Except for the fact mommy was the dirty comic in a burlesque show, my son had a very ordinary upbringing. Little League, school performances, friends that lived around the corner. I was 48 when I moved back to New York City; it's been seven years since I left Sin City. You do the math, but I ain't getting any younger. My husband and I had pined for NYC since we left it all those years ago. We wanted to come home and so we did. New York changed since I left all those years ago and so has comedy. It is no longer an artist's game, it's for the masses now. And if there's one thing today's society has been programmed for, it's that old people don't matter. Being over 50 means you are this close to death. I see it when people look at me in the streets, when I walk into a clothes store, when I turn on the television or watch a film. Occasionally we get something starring Helen Mirren or Judi Dench and us oldsters jump, (ok maybe not jump, we could hurt ourselves) for joy. Truth be told, sexism is a piece of cake compared to ageism. At least I got whistled at when I was younger. Now the wind whistles through my thinning hair. So when DID the ageism start? Lucille Ball was 40 when she created I Love Lucy in 1951. She went to become one of the most influential people in television and was revered until her death at 78. The thing about the days of early television was that everyone was given chances (no one really knew what they were doing) and from that great TV was born. Mentally I don't feel any older, physically it's day by day. Hanging out at a comedy club till the wee hours just isn't fun anymore and that's where a lot of my business takes place. Oh I can still drink anyone under the table doing shots of Patron but my recovery is now about a week. I start yawning around the time The Daily Show is ending. I have traveled thousands of miles across the USA and around the world to make people laugh. I'm tired. The problem is that I still love being a comic. It has been part of my life for over 30 years. You know the saying "Everyone's a comedian?" These days, everyone IS. Right now, somewhere, someone is thinking to themselves I make my friends laugh, I'm gonna make a video and put it up on You Tube and it'll go viral. That's where Hollywood is looking for their talent these days. I can't compete with youth, nor do I want to. What am I going to say to the powers that be, "Hey I'm old and wrinkly but I have wisdom!" I'm proud of my age and refuse to bow down to the gods of plastic surgery. Nothing is scarier than an old person with a wrinkly body but with a face you can skate on. I've been told that mentioning my age will hurt my career. Yeah right, just like "having a baby" did all those years ago. It IS a young person's game. So maybe it's time to throw in the towel and find something new. But the catch here is because of the rampant ageism in TV & film, the "real world" has been told not to look at us boomers either. Slowly I have been moving away from standup comedy which makes me sad. I am doing more directing & producing shows, mentoring young comics, a lot more writing. At least with writing, no one can say, "get me a good looking 22 year old". Well, if they did, I would just say, "give me a minute to write her in". In the seven years since I've returned to NYC I have seen so many people who were just finding their way as young comics blossom into huge successes. Getting onstage every night, writing new jokes, honing their material. And that's the way it should be. I'm just hoping one of them will let me play their mom... or grandma.

He's leaving home

Just yesterday I gave birth to a bouncing baby boy. 8lbs 7 oz. 22 inches long all his fingers and toes. A beautiful healthy baby. Holy shit did he blindside me. I never thought I could love anything as I much as I did that baby boy. Well guess what? Said baby boy is 20 years old and moving out. Away from home. I've had good and bad days since he told me he's leaving. I'm sad alot.
Life is changing again after 20 years.
20 years of taking care of him. Feeding, clothing, bathing...wait I stopped that when he was toddler.
That's the wine talking.
I look around and see so many friends in the midst of it all and how frazzled they all look.
The baby years: When all you do is look at this thing you and your hubby made and wonder at the miracle of it all. They are totally dependent on you.
The toddler years: When they take their first step away from you and become their own little person the first time they say no.
The child years: The most fun years where everything they do is done with such joy
The tween years: The aforementioned joy is now DRAMA at every waking moment. You start thinking why did I become pregnant?
The teen years: I was lucky, he was a great teenager. But for the rest of you... You really start worrying, who is this satan's spawn I gave birth to?
And then just like that, they leave. No warning at all.
"Mom, it's time for me to go"
7 words that broke my heart, sniff
I guess this is what we're really supposed to do as parents.
Push them out of the nest and see them fly. I really don't know how birds do it. I bet when no one is looking there's a group of canaries drinking out of a spiked water fountain lamenting the loss of their chick.
Look I KNOW it's the right thing but it's like one day we were driving along at this fast clip and suddenly screeched to a halt.
I DON'T WANNA STOP MOTHERING!!! I like it too much. Everything about it. The dirty faces, the spills, the fights, the tears, the birthday parties, the house full of noisy kids after a little league game. I could go on but you get my point.
So to my son Layne, the light of my world, go out and soar kid, show 'em what you're made of. I'm already so proud of you.

Kick ass, be safe and don't forget to call your mom sometimes.

This is for the new moms

Ah yes, it's Mother's Day soon. I myself am not a big fan of the holiday. Why one day? With the amount of shit mothers do EVERY DAY we should be put on a pedestal and carried around forever. But I digress. So many of my friends have had babies this year. Obviously 2011 was a slow time. That said I thought since I have been there and done that with my 20 year old son, I will pass along some words of wisdom. Yes you may call me Momma Yoda.
#1 Don't worry about where your baby/toddler is going to go to school. By the time he or she is old enough, you won't be able to afford it. And at the rate we are going electronically, everyone will be homeschooled in the future.
#2 FOR GOD'S SAKE, Stop wasting money on classes. Yes ANYTHING music, art, dance, sports. Parents we do this for 2 reasons. One is to live vicariously through the child (Yeah I know, you could've been the next Jeter, Picasso, Springsteen if ONLY your parents trained you.) Two, we all need a reason to get the fuck out of the house every once in awhile. Hire a sitter, go to the movies, see a play. Save the money for when you can't afford school. (See above)
#3 Spend quality time with your kid. Simple yet so true. The best memories I have with Layne include our drive to elementary school every morning. We'd talk, listen to music or just drive. It was magical. So much so that when our neighbors wanted to carpool I had to decline. I was then forever known in the neighborhood as Bitch Mom. And before you say it, yeah I still am.
#4 LOVE THEM and realize that no matter what you do, your child will become the person they are supposed to be. It's explains why Barack Obama became president and why Donald Trump became well Donald Trump. Still so many times I think to myself, what could I have done differently to help him along. Make him happy forever. Sadly life isn't happy ever after. Damn fairytales!

You know what I did EVERYTHING, I was THAT mom. PTA, Little League, barbeques. From the moment the bell rang on Friday till Sunday evening there were kids at my house EVERYWHERE. I squeezed so many straws into juiceboxes I should be sent a lifetime supply. Now I look back at the whirlwind that is raising kids and think, how did we all get out of that in one piece? As I deal with an adult son and my friends deal with their little ones I pine for the days when he was small. I miss it yes, glad it's over absofuckinlutely.

And now he's 20

I have always blogged about my son's birthdays. Something about the passing of another year with him makes me reevaluate my own life. Fuck New Years, here's when I reassess. I have a child now who is in his third decade and yet I still look at him as a little boy. Just yesterday he was reaching for me, now I'm reaching for him. How did this happen? Oh yeah, I blinked.
A good friend of mine just had a baby and while I'm thrilled for her I realized THAT part of my life is over.
All the boo-boos, all the little league games, all the school projects gone, just like that. No warning at all. I loved being "that mom". The one who had the kids over, who ran the school functions, who baked the brownies. God I loved making brownies.
I have had to readjust my life again. And just like a whiny toddler, I don't wanna. I was so wrapped up in my son's life that I never prepared for the inevitable. He's an adult, he has his own life. It takes every power of my being not to hold onto to his leg as he leaves every day to live his life. I'm lucky, at the moment he is still living at home but it's only a matter of time before he's on his own. So to my friend who just had a baby and all my friends with little ones, hold em tight but loosen your grip slowly. That way it may not hurt as bad. And when it eventually happens to you, come on over, I'll make brownies.

So Long 2011 and Good Riddance! By Carole Montgomery AKA NationalMOM

It’s almost New Year’s and it’s been a challenging year to say the least. New
year’s eve is the night we are so hopeful, so full of not knowing what is going to kick our
ass in the coming year. And then there are the amateur drunks, LOTS OF THEM
coupled with the billion tourists who MUST SEE THE BALL DROP. Hey midwesterners,
it’s a fuckin glass ball. I live in midtown Manhattan with a direct view of the ball drop. It’s
gotten so bad, they start closing off my street to traffic at 6 PM. My husband and I flee
town faster than Lindsay Lohan dropped her clothes for Playboy. AND we can handle
our alcohol.
I always work NYE with one stipulation. I am offstage BEFORE midnight.
Nothing is worse then counting down to the new year holding a cheap noisemaker
and a cheaper glass of champagne onstage while trying to do your act. Especially if
you’re in the middle of it when the clock strikes twelve. I might as well stand there
naked to get their attention at that point and really, I don’t want to do that to anyone!
Then all hell breaks lose, “We MUST have a good time or 2012 will suck!” is
the mantra. The drinking toasts begin and go on and on. Kissing someone as the ball
drops is a beautiful thing. That said, kissing the porcelain god should NOT be one of
your resolutions.
And lo and behold, the new year begins. “This will be a better year”
becomes the rallying cry. “I’m gonna change, lose weight, stop smoking”. Somewhere
around January 5 we go back to who we were just a scant week ago. Cause in the end,
we’re just human. And NYE is just another day.

Happy Mothers Day

I was not the type of woman that grew up wanting children. I was a child of the 70's feminist movement. I knew I could have it ALL but mostly I just wanted a career. When and IF I had a child it was going to be on MY terms and not societies. I had been married for 7 years, had just done a shitload of tv shows as a comedian when Io and behold I was late getting my BFF. Now understand this, I was ALWAYS TERRIFIED of getting pregnant, I used to put in a diaphragm, foam and make my husband wear 2 condoms. But here I was, working a comedy club up in Seattle and I was feeling funny, not standup funny, body funny. I went to the drugstore to get the home pregnancy test and went back to the comedy condo to use it. These were in the early days when the test would be pink if you were or white if you weren't. Well for the life of me I couldn't figure out what color it was. My friend and I spent the ENTIRE day going back and forth. Is it pink, looks like it, nope, yep, etc. That night I went onstage and let's just say I realized I was NOT pregnant.

You know what? I got sad. When I got home my husband and I started to try for real. He was thrilled, unprotected sex for months! I got pregnant immediately. At my parent's apartment. I kid you not. My mother walked in asking if we wanted bagels in the morning. She had NO CLUE what was conspiring under those covers or so she said......This time I got a BETTER home pregnancy test and yessir I was preggers. Having my son Layne blindsided me, I fell in love with him the moment I awoke from my drugged stupor. I fell into motherhood so easy I shoulda been catholic. My whole life was consumed by this little bundle of flesh. As he grew up I was there all the time, taking him to playdates, making sure he got to school, kissing his booboos away. Hell I even moved to Las Vegas so he could have some semblance of a normal life. Yeah, his mom worked in topless burlesque shows as the comic and was vice-president of the PTA, REAL NORMAL.

We grew very close, still are to this day. But at some point you realize that well, they need to be on their own, regardless of your relationship. Letting go of my son was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I am a typical jewish mother so to NOT be clinging to him every waking moment is a huge step for me. But I knew that it was time. Just before he turned 18 in 2010, I was asked to go overseas to perform for our military in Kuwait and Iraq. I had been asked numerous times but always wanted to wait till he was older. The flight over was 13 hours and when we got there our American phones would not work. It was the first time I didn't hear his voice for 3 DAYS! We got to "talk" online but I didn't speak to him until I got to the hotel in Iraq and was able to use a free military phone. When I finally did talk to him, he wouldn't stop! We had a 15 minute time limit and I was the one who to say I had to go. By the way, you ever want your teenager to talk to you, go work in a warzone! What did the trip teach me?

Well he was just fine without me hovering all the time and yes it freed me up to do things I wanted to do. I just had to figure out what the hell THAT was. 2011 seems to be the year of teaching me to let go. Of my son, of my past, of my stuff. When all you know is what surrounds you, it's very hard to venture out into the unknown. And so I've let go. And it's tough. I haven't had to deal with ME for almost 20 years. Kids are a GREAT diversion. And then if you've done a good job they go onto their own lives. And if you've done a GREAT job they actually call you once in awhile to ask your advice. I remember when I was in my 20's I called my mom for advice and she said " Carole, no matter what I tell you to do, you're gonna do what you want anyway" And that's the way it should be. Happy Mother's Day.

National Mom: Just Like my Dad!

Growing up my father was larger than life. He spoke loud, he drank loud. He did his entire life loud. By trade my dad was a teacher, during the summer vacations he worked as a bartender in the Catskill Mountains. On the side he was a bookie, but that's a WHOLE other column. For so many summer days I would watch him set up the bar in the afternoon. In would walk some of the comedy greats, Rodney Dangerfield, Jackie Mason, Totie Fields. They were there to do their soundcheck. Is it a wonder I feel so at home in a bar? That I became a comedian myself? I wanted to be just like him (many would say I am).

I remember when I was just a little girl, I would sit and watch him shave every morning. The shaking of the shaving cream can, filling the sink with water, getting out his razor. The sound of the razor against his skin, the dipping of the razor in the water, then the tapping. How I so wanted to be him.

One morning I asked him if I could shave with him and lo and behold he said yes. Quite the odd request from a girl. I'm sure he was thinking of the therapy bills coming down the pike. I stood next to him on the toilet bowl lid and put shaving cream on my face and with a toothbrush followed everything my dad did. Even patted my self down with what I will assume was old spice and, off to school! I went smelling like my dad, but beaming.

I got so much of who I am from my dad, especially my sense of humor. My dad could tell a joke! Laughing was something we always shared and I would learn to share as I grew up. We would watch I Love Lucy during dinner, Abbot and Costello on Sundays before football and my beloved Marx Brothers whenever their movies showed on tv. I can still remember me and my dad on our family vacation in Europe repeating lines from Go West as we walked down cobblestone streets.

My dad is 81 now, his step a little slower, his mind a little weaker. It's easy to get frustrated with him as I still move at the speed of sound. He's still loud but that's because his hearing is going. That's what the sadness of aging is, you remember the young and vibrant person you once were as you look in the mirror and see someone who is breaking down. It's what happens, it's life. I do worry about him. When the time will come when he can't do for himself, what then? One thing for sure, I got dibs on giving him a shave.

COOL MA

When my son was younger I would do anything to make him happy. It was my life's mission to prove how cool a mom I was. I'm not sure why I had this need, but every year it seemed to be more urgent. I was big on doing what other moms wouldn't. Hell I worked in 2 different TOPLESS Las Vegas shows, I win on that credit alone everytime. I am fearless in life, when it comes to my son I am Superman. My son today is an accomplished musician and writer, when he was young he just loved music. Anytime we could take him to see a rock concert that was all ages, my husband and I would try to get tickets. He saw Joe Walsh at age 4, Chumbawumba at 6, Everclear at 10. Here's what type of mom I am. We got the tickets to Everclear but were seated in the balcony. My son was able to sneak to the front of the balcony cause he was 10 and adorable. Just before Everclear does their last number the lead singer Art announces that they will take fans onstage to dance with them for the last number. I look at my son, he is raising his hand cause he thinks like a student and was waiting to get picked. Now I see this and know, there's NO WAY they're gonna see him so I run and grab him and we start running down the backstairs to get to the floor of the club. Of course in my haste I'd forgotten we were at a ROCK CONCERT WITH EVERCLEAR. No one was budging, everyone was pushing to get to the front and not letting us through. Now you know how we moms are, I start pushing my way through crowds of drunk, tattooed, pierced men to get to the front and give my son his moment. I'm getting elbowed and body slammed left and right. Finally I said to this humongous creature, "Do I look like I want to go onstage with Art?" The guy turns around and sees Layne and then the coolest thing happened. He goes "Yo, little dude, c'mon!" And he makes a path for him to get to the front. Of course Art is now saying no more people please. Layne is heartbroken. All of a sudden, everyone in the front starts pointing to my son. At that moment Art nods and they lift him up to get onstage with his favorite band. Layne still says it's one of his favorite memories. The kicker is as we were leaving the show, he went to the bathroom by himself. I figured at 10 he didn't want to go into the ladies room so I always would time him. 3 minutes and he's not out, I'm going in. Well he walks out talking to an older guy and I run over to him terrified. The guy says to me " I was just a the concert, he's a cool kid. When he gets old enough, I wanna give him is first tattoo" And he gives me his card and walks away. And that's why I'm a cool ma.

SATURDAY IN TUCSON

When I launched National Mom in 2010, I was hoping to raise awareness to the constant bickering that seemed to be going on in our fine country. "Everyone is right, no one is to blame, I'll just yell louder" And now this. 20 people shot, 6 people dead including a child. How's that anger working out for you……EVERYONE? Now in the weeks to come there will be blame from the left and blame from the right. Already the right is calling the shooter a liberal who didn't agree with Gifford's views . Umm she's a DEMOCRAT or have you all forgotten that? And the left is blaming Sarah Palin. Did she put the gun in his hand? Absolutely not. Did the map with targets over certain congress members have something to do with it? Probably not, but it does make me wonder why all of Sarah's yee haw tweets have been mysteriously scrubbed. Is she finally getting a conscience? Nope, someone on her team realized that after the incident, it may be on poor taste to keep it up there. The excuse of course is that it should've been taken down long ago. Yet it stayed up and NOW it gets taken down. But enough on her, people know how I feel about that subject.
Here's the point, SIX PEOPLE DIED. Why is it that whenever we disagree, all this rage comes spewing out. On twitter I watched people go off on each other in the most brutal way possible, everyone FORGETTING the severity of the situation. As someone who lost a family member to violence, I can tell you that it is something you never get over. You are always looking over your shoulder wondering who the next crazy person is. The families of the people killed are in such horrific pain. Can't ANYONE have a civil disagreement anymore? You know being able to disagree is one of the great things about this country, so is being able to own a gun. How sad that instead of bonding together we are all fighting and yelling to see who gets out on top. Once again, no one is taking responsiblity but blaming the other side. How fucking 10 years old of you!
I wonder what will happen if one day there really is a war on our beloved USA land, will we fight together or throw each other in harms way? Sadly I think I know the answer.

Oh British Petroleum...shame on you

As National Mom, one of the most frustrating things is watching people running away from their responsibilities. When as a nation did it become okay to do something bad and get away with it? Oh yeah, thanks OJ Simpson. Yes there are other examples on both sides of the political fence but I choose NOT to go there. If we as a species don't start manning up and admit to our mistakes, well then you in BIG TROUBLE LUCY.
The problem with BP is they know how much shit they are in and yet they think it's okay to get their lawyers to try to get people to sign papers absolving their company from any damages. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? REALLY? Your screw up has lost people their livelihood, not counting the thousands of living species you destroyed. But yet it comes down to saving your own skin and most importantly money. It's like when you see a kid break something and when you call him on it he looks innocently at you and says "I didn't do it"
When I lived in Las Vegas, every morning my neighbor would revve his muscle car at 6 AM just to show how big his dick was. Finally we explained to him, that people around him were sleeping and it wasn't the neighborly thing. You know what? He stopped. So listen up BP! Stop spilling oil all over the gulf of mexico, it's NOT the neighborly thing to do..... MAN UP AND FIX THIS.

Haiti and the Cheerleaders

So I get a request for comedians for a quick 3 day trip to Haiti to perform for the guys and gals who've been done there since the earthquake in January. I grab my trusty partner in comedy crime Leighann Lord and off we go. Since there was no US military presence before the earthquake all of the bases are makeshift. Kinda made me pine for the accomodations in Baghdad. After a slight mishap finding our ride (let's just put it this way, Haitians say NO alot if they don't understand you), we were off to get settled in. The ride from the airport to the base took no time, hell we could've walked it if I knew where I was going. We get to our tents (thankfully airconditioned) to settle in. The weather in Haiti is unrelenting hot with humidity. Later in the day we walked to the DFAC to get something to eat and as we walked back I noticed 3 women by our tent. All in beautiful black suits, high heels and sunglasses. Ahh the cheerleaders have arrived. They were PERFECTLY COIFFED, made up to the hilt and were gorgeous. I was in cargo pants, hair in a scrunchy with sweat pouring down my face. Proof that although I was a cheerleader in high school, it was good I went on a different path.
Let me say I am NOT a girly girl (if you didn't realize it from mention of the cargo pants) and I had raised a son. So rooming with these girls was like having 3 daughters for a few days. What I got from them was this, you CAN look amazing amongst the worst conditions. Especially if you bring hair products, LOTS of them. Even when we were flying in a blackhawk, these girls looked flawless. I don't know HOW they did it but I have a feeling it's a closely guarded secret there in Miami. Someday I'd like to try being a girl for a few hours but I'm not getting rid of the cargo pants.

A Liberal's View of War

Let me start by saying yes I am against war, ANY war. I am a mother. I certainly don't want MY son in harm's way nor anyone else's for that matter, regardless of what god they believe in. That said, last October I was approached by ARMED FORCES ENTERTAINMENT to produce a comedy tour in the Middle East. One stipulation, they wanted me to perform to on the tour. And you know what? This little old anti-war mommy jumped in with both feet.
My father is a Korean War veteran. He is almost 80 years old and still can't bring himself to fully discuss what happened to him. So I always wanted to go overseas to perform for the troops. To give some laughs in a very tense atmosphere. To honor my dad and his friends who never returned home. But I didn't want to leave my young son, on the off chance I didn't make it back. Cut to this fall, my son's turning 18 in a few months, now's the time. So here was this menopausal, jewish, liberal going off to Kuwait and Iraq. What Empty Nest syndrome?
Besides being one of the best experiences of my life I also learned a few things. Back home we, myself included, are under the misguided notion that our troops don't want to be fighting or even be there. Let me set this straight....the entire time I was in Iraq there was not ONE WORD of discontent. And I had time to talk to quite a few soldiers. Did they miss their families? Absolutely! I go away for the weekend and I'm homesick. But the feeling that I got was that this was their job. They chose a life in the military. And they're smart as a whip. Are they bloodthirsty savages, enjoying the killings they are forced to do? Once again, no. But if you have someone throw a bomb at a stryker and it injures some of your buddies, you damn well are going out to find who did it and make them pay. Maybe it's the Brooklyn in me, but I have always been an eye for an eye kinda gal.
As a liberal, I have to say that we are still stuck in a Vietnam mindset of these "poor boys" were made to go over. That's what I thought and I was proven wrong over and over. Are they children? Yes, they are, but they have a sense of duty and loyalty that you just can't teach in Little League. I was so in awe of these men and women, not much older than my own son doing their duty to their country. Teenagers were flying the C-130 I went to Iraq in. TEENAGERS!
Now do I think we should be there? NO. War is nasty & horrific, but no matter how evolved humans become someone is gonna want something that they can't have and end up fighting for it. The Middle East has been fighting amongst themselves for many years, they don't want a resolution. They just want to argue...sorta like Congress. Now that we ARE there, we have to step up to the plate and finish the job, regardless of who started it. That's my biggest problem with the media and politicians both LEFT and Right. No one wants to resolve anything, just dig their feet in and say..NO YOU'RE WRONG. There is no solution, just more fighting. In that way America is JUST LIKE the Middle East. My point here is, while these grownup "children" are arguing who's right and who's wrong, real CHILDREN are being put in harm's way. And that's what's wrong with war.

He's a man, baby

Most of my closest friends expected me to be in a puddle today as my only son turns 18. I have a tendency to cry at the drop of a hallmark commercial when it comes to Layne. Surprisingly I'm ok with it. Do I miss the baby, toddler, young boy? Absolutely! One of my favorite things to do with Layne as a small child was cuddling up with a good book and reading it to him. Yesterday we sang Thunder Road while he played guitar. Not the same thing but joyous also. Today I feel proud when I look at him. Maybe it was being around all of those young soldiers both men and women. I saw how capable they were at such a young age. Todd & I did a good job, he is a wonderful, thoughtful, caring young MAN....There I said it

And we're done

Funny how ten days away can change your perspective. My feelings going over to perform for the troops was excitement but in the back of my head I knew what the risks were. The tour started us off easy, 5 star hotel, big base, lots of troops excited to hear some comedy. We went to bed exhilarated. Next day was the first day of travel in the Blackhawks. I felt like a little girl, weeeeeee.
When we landed in Tarmiya we all knew this was a DIFFERENT type of base. All men, well boys really. We spoke at length about war and the bad guys. Stuff I couldn't comprehend but understand now. As they were getting ready to go on a mission they sat and posed with us for pictures and joked around. They were leaving to go into certain danger. 3 of their colleagues had been injured a week before from a bomb and yet each was going with no trepidation. We all know war sucks but these young men were there tp do their job and they do it with such bravery. This tour has been one of the best experiences of my life.

Day 2

NOW it gets interesting. We leave to board our first blackhawk which was also 3 hours late. Gives new meaning to 3 hour tour. Our first stop was a foward operating base which means they are the ones that go out and do the sweeps for the enemy. No women in the crowd, they were smoking cigars I felt like I was in the remake of the Dirty Dozen. They couldn't have been nicer. They were going out on a mission right after our show so we got to see them get ready for battle. They even had a bomb sniffing dog. Which Leighann and I fawned over (we asked if we could) The dog was my highlight. These guys are leaving and facing emminent danger and yet they had time to pose for pictures with us and joke with us. Then off to the next camp. Larger base, 400 troops. Again great crowd. I have never felt so proud to be an American. We had to rush the last meet and greet to get to the Blackhawk to get back to Baghdad. I am wiped and yet wide awake. And grateful. Oh so grateful

Day one Iraq

So we get to the airbase to take a C-130 at around 9. We then proceed to wait....for 3 hours. There's alot of waiting in the military. We finally get to board, there isn't enough room on the plane so I get sent upstairs. I'm thinking 747 cocktail lounge. I'm going to sit in the cockpit with the flight crew. HOLY SHIT. I'm looking at these kids who aren't much older than my son Layne and they're flying a C-130?? My kid can't do his own laundry.
We get to Baghdad and we're all just beat so we took a quick nap and then performed for about 300 troops. And you will hear comics say again and again, the military are the best audiences in the world.

Finally here

I wasn't sure how I was gonna fare being in a plane for 12 hours. As a New Yorker I must GO GO GO. We left an hour late and while up in the air someone passed out after ten hours 2 rows behind us. So we killed an hour watching everyone try to revive him. As we got off the plane I remembered something from when I traveled as a child. Outside of the USA women are second class citizens, WTF? Not knowing what to do as far a visas I kept asking questions and NOONE would help "just get in line and wait". The Visa line looked like the DMV in Los Angeles, I figured we were there for the night. Luckily we got through everything in a hour and we in out hotel by 930 and at the buffet by 10. It is now 6 AM Kuwait time and I slept for about 5 1/2 hours. Not sure if I can get back to sleep so hence, the blog. Our military liason is a wonderful man named Col. Schock. We sat with him at dinnertime and he answered all our questions stupid or not. I am still in wonder that you board a metal object in one place and end up across the world 12 hours later. 52 years old and I'm still a kid when I travel. Later today is our first show. It can't get here fast enough

I'm sitting in the Sheraton Hartford as I wait for night to fall so I can do my comedy thing. This morning I had breakfast in the restaurant with about 30 college hockey players. All young, all robust and all hungry. Seriously there was NOTHING left in the buffet. When the waitress went to refill the yogurts I had to push my way in just to get to the blueberry one. And I looked at these loud, laughing, young men. Tomorrow I go to Kuwait, then Iraq where I will meet young men and women roughly the same age as the hockey players. Do they still have that twinkle in their eyes that comes from just being well 20 years old? If not I hope that us comics being there gives them some kind of joy.
As Americans we have so much that we take for granted. Shelter, food, plumbing, FREEDOM.
And so the adventure begins.

Welcome to National Mom

Awhile back I was ranting about how politicians just keep arguing. They never want to solve anything, each side just WANTS TO BE RIGHT. And I realized both sides need to be put in TIME OUT. They are acting like children and should be treated as such, hence why we need a NATIONAL MOM.
I leave for Kuwait and Iraq on Sunday January 31. I am hoping to be able to blog about my trip while there. To be around our troops who are only a few years older than my own son will be enlightening to say the least. I'm sure they miss their moms, I'm hoping I can make them smile. I want to hear what THEY think. No one ever asks the people doing the grunt work their opinion.
I am going over with some of my closest comedy friends. Leighann Lord, Mark Riccadonna, Stephen Kruiser and Felicia Michaels.
Wish me luck