Friday, November 27, 2009

Craigslist: Position Available at White House

Gatekeeper needed asap.

-Must be able to stay awake during shift

-Someone who can distinguish invited guests from party crashers

-Demonstrate ability to read names on list

-Reality show contestants need not apply

-Entry level position

Salary TBD

Sunday, November 22, 2009

2012: the end of Oprah, or of everything? -- by Sybil Adelman Sage

Heaped on top of the existing and illogical wars, economic woes, job scarcity, terrorism, genocide, trafficking of women, global warming, identity theft, the greed of pharmaceutical companies and Wall Street tycoons, we're worrying about health care reform, Social Security going broke, swine flu and how to deal with Guantanamo prisoners. Our only distractions are medical announcements about mammograms and pap smears, along with the finding that Zetiya doesn't prevent heart attacks.

Thank goodness for the Mayans, who predicted that life as we know it will end on December 21, 2012. Why do we have to wait? My fear is what they were referring to was Oprah leaving network television. We need everything to end, if not change dramatically. Oprah has enough clout to insist that Comedy Central roasts, reality and award shows go off with hers.

President Obama must be as relieved as I am. If the Mayans were right, no matter how many more troops we do or do not send, the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan will be over in two years. Future generations will not have to pick up the tab for what we're spending. And there will be no Cheneys or Ann Coulter gloating, "The apocalypse happened on Obama's watch!"

The filmmakers who made the movie must also have had faith in the Mayans; if ever there was a movie with no sequel potential, it's "2012."

Saturday, November 21, 2009

Advice to Women: you don't need medical care -- by Sybil Adelman Sage

This past week women learned from a task force (consisting of no oncologists) that those under the age of 50 should hold off on getting mammograms. Women welcomed this news as it means fewer of those experiences having their breasts pressed into a panini.

An unrelated finding, this from the American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists, is that pap test screenings are best postponed until after the age of 21 and be done less frequently.

Other task groups will surely announce that since women have a longer life expectancy and tolerate illness better than men, they should be denied medical care. Diagnostic tests for women may, in fact, be a frivolous luxury that's been adding to the burden on our already strained economy.

Moving women out of doctors' offices will free up physicians to be available to help men whose erections are lasting over four hours.

Saturday, October 24, 2009

Female Pilot Would Have Asked for Directions -- by Sybil Adelman Sage

There's been much conjecture about how the two officers piloting the Northwest Airlines jet missed its destination by 150 miles.

Pilot Richard Cole says there was no fight in the cockpit and claims neither he nor the captain had fallen asleep, but he's offered no explanation for how they forgot to land Flight 188.

My theories:

They got lost, and being men, wouldn't ask air traffic controllers for directions;

They were out to create a new situaion in the air with the hope of putting an end to the excessive coverage of the Balloon Boy, perhaps looking to get a reality show of their own.

Monday, October 12, 2009

"Whatever" & other annoying conversational destroyers -- by Sybil Adelman Sage

A recent poll taken by Marist College to determine which words are most annoying in conversation showed that the winner — well, actually, the loser — getting 47% of the vote was "whatever" (pronounced WHAT-ev-err). It beat out "you know," which irritates 25% of the respondents, "it is what it is" (11%), "anyway" (7%) and "at the end of the day" (2%). Conspicuously missing for me was "like," a longtime favored verbal tic in the younger set.

I may be more prickly than the Marist respondents because my list is longer than theirs. I’m agitated by the use of "frankly" and "quite frankly," typically inserted before the third clause of a construction and never introducing anything more revealing or shocking than what preceded it. Even more disturbing to me is the recurring use of "sort of," overwhelmingly a favorite of academics, wroters and pundits on cable news networks or NPR. "Sort of" seems to be the adult version of "like," used to sound more informal and, judging by their frequency of usage, both have an addictive component.

At the risk of sounding Andy Rooneyish, what’s the deal with the nodding response, that repeated bobbing up and down of the head by the listener, followed by, "OK"?

Have these all been introduced by one person with a huge social network? And what causes them to go viral? I

propose we fight the national debt by creating a category known as "communication offenses" and fining the guilty.

Friday, September 25, 2009

Adultery For Dummies -- by Sybil Adelman Sage

Those having trouble finding extra-marital affairs (seemingly a minute demographic) now have help. The web site identifies itself as the "Discreet Dating Community For Married People, and for Single People that want to meet and date unhappy married people."

They offer the option of having an affair with a married woman or man, another if you're in a relationship and want to have an affair, telling you which link to press as if those looking to cheat need mentoring and directions to figure out the right buttons to press.

The copy reads, "There are thousands of unhappy married women and men in every city." I would add there may be more now that the spouse can line up an affair without even leaving the computer. It goes on to boast, "A great thing about this Discreet Dating Community For Married People is that there is no cost to join," a decided advantage over the Atlanta Athletic Club with an initiation fee of $40,000, the Los Angeles Country Club that charges $80,000 for a membership, and even Costco, where for an annual fee of $50, I get to bag my own oversized, unwieldy purchases. It's now cheaper to have an affair than to stock up on toilet paper. requires you to be 18 or over, perhaps to screen out underage political science majors who want to have an affair prior to getting elected.

Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Say "I'm sorry" on The Jay Leno Show

With Kanye West's apology being credited for boosting the ratings of Jay Leno's first primetime show, look for a new feature, "the apology segment." Upcoming guests will be Serena Williams, Roger Federer, Joe Wilson and a reprise by apologist emeritus Mark Sanford.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Who Did Khalid Sheikh Mohammed's Make-over -- by Sybil Adelman Sage

The newly released photo of Khalid Sheikh Mohammed shows him looking far less bedraggled and more like Osama Bin Laden than he had in the downtrodden "before" pictures repeatedly shown on TV. Though we've all been told not to bring in photos of celebrities to hairdressers, he must have shown one of bin Laden's tapes to the make-over stylist at Guantanamo, someone far better than the lady in the Bloomingdale's cosmetic department, who failed miserably when I asked to look more like Catherine-Zeta Jones.

His beard is longer, his face, perhaps because of skillfully applied make-up, lighting or both, appears less round, what the people who name face shapes for those of us deciding which eyeglass frames are most flattering might call, "oval," or "pear-shaped." His prior photo, showing him with a dazed expression and wearing a t-shirt whose neck had stretched out, accompanied every story about whether or not waterboarding is torture.

Judging from the way Khalid Sheikh Mohammad (did he use three names before Sarah Jessica Parker?) looked, waterboarding is torture, or certainly when it's done 183 times. His new look is a huge improvement and could land him on the cover of the terrorists' fashion magazine.

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

Reasons for a bedroom threesome - by Sybil Adelman Sage

I’ve never been interested in a threesome, picturing too many arms and other body parts called into play at the same time, like an overloaded electrical outlet that could, without warning, combust. Can three people be intimate? Doesn’t it create that same, "Sorry, you go ahead" awkwardness of a conference call? And who calls whom the next morning? Or was that how the conference call originated?

As I’m getting older, however, I’m starting to see why a couple might enlist a third person, not to join in the activities, but to serve as a concierge. The responsibilities would vary, depending on the age and needs of the couple. Think of it as sexual assisted living.

During the hormone-driven, teen years, this person would provide condoms and serve as the designated driver if one or both are in no condition to drive. Insurance companies might reduce premiums for those with this risk-reducing threesome in place.

Ages 20-40: The "sextra" is to suggest different positions to add variety, charge batteries for sexual aids and keep any offspring away from the bedroom. A couple engaged in adultery could have their own third person to keep an eye out for suspicious spouses, detectives and tabloid reporters, and in the case of married politicians, to draft the public apology.

Ages 35-50: For those getting a later start on having kids and facing fertility problems, the additional person monitors basal temperature, prodding the couple to have sex at optimal moments and TIVO-ing "The Daily Show" if they have to miss it.

Ages 60 & up: This is when the helper maintains the supply of Cialis and lubricants and remains in the ready position to run in with kneading hands upon hearing a loud cry indicating a Lipitor-induced leg cramp. If one of the team has suffered a hearing loss, the "sex-asst." (as the listing would appear on craigslist) is positioned during all activities to be visible to both partners and communicate, "Faster" and "Don’t stop" in sign language.

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Honor Ted Kennedy by Having my Husband Pick Up his Socks from the Floor - by Sybil Adelman Sage

I signed this petition to honor Ted Kennedy, which was delivered to senators:

"In honor of Ted Kennedy, name the reform bill that passed Kennedy's health committee 'The Kennedy Bill'." I did, however, add a minor modification: that my husband pick up the piles of clothing and sections of 'The New York Times' that he's routinely left on the floor during our 27-year marriage."

This bill is important to those of us who not only worry about medical coverage, but are forced to choose between stepping over or picking up assorted items of clothing, an issue that created controversy when feminist author Fay Weldon, in a recent interview with The Daily Telegraph, advised that if a woman wants an easy life, she should pick up her husband's socks.

Each time I toss a sneaker into the closet, sock into the laundry bag or "Style" section into the recycling bin, I remind myself that my husband replaces burned out bulbs, washes greasy pots, hangs photos, rearranges the food pantry, pays the bills and manages the record-keeping, has our car inspected and tops off the wiper fluid, moves furniture, handles everything electrical and digital, charges batteries for remotes and cameras, orders cartridges for our seltzer maker and maintains the espresso machine, updates my software and recovers lost data, whether in my computer or brain. You'd think someone who does all that uncomplainingly could pick up after himself.

If Congress doesn't help, I will be left with no recourse but to hold him hostage until he sympathizes with his captor in what's called Stockholm syndrome, becomes dependent on me for survival and feels guilty enough to do what I ask. But what happens if our car runs out of windshield fluid?

Monday, August 31, 2009


"Why buy when you can rent?" a premise that's been many a guy's guiding principle, has been applied by Zipcar to transportation, causing "Fortune" to dub it, "the best new idea in business."

A Zipcar member goes into a parking lot, pulls out an IPhone, taps a button on the screen and poof, a little car starts honking to say, "I'm over here, take me!" It costs $11.25 an hour, there's no commitment, and you can return it without any concerns about where it will spend the night or who's going to take care of its needs tomorrow. You don't have to insure it, giving it all the appeal of a mistress who won't write a tell-all book.

The company was founded in 2000 by two women, Robin Chase and Antie Danielson, using the internet and wireless technology to keep track of their fleet of fuel-efficient cars. These women, so savvy about the concept of sharing, may want to invite women who suspect their men may be zipping around, to use their data base system and find out where they are at any given time.

Sunday, August 30, 2009

Please sign this petition -- by Sybil Adelman Sage

I signed this petition to honor Ted Kennedy, was delivered to senators:

"In honor of Ted Kennedy, name the reform bill that passed Kennedy’s health committee ‘The Kennedy Bill'. I added a minor modification -- that my husband must pick up the piles of clothing and sections of The New York Timeshe’s been strewing on the floor during our 27-year marriage.”

The passage of this bill is important to those of us who not only worry about medical insurance, but have to choose between stepping or picking up recently removed men’s clothing and assorted other discarded items or picking them up because this week, feminist author Fay Weldon, in an interview with The Daily Telegraph, advised that if a woman wants an easy life, she pick up her husband’s socks.

Each time I toss a sneaker into the closet, sock into the laundry bag and "Style" section into the recycling bin, I remind myself that my husband replaces bulbs, washes greasy pots and scours the griddle, hangs photos, rearranges the food pantry, pays our bills and manages the record-keeping, takes the car to be inspected and tops off the wiper fluid, moves furniture, handles everything electrical and digital, orders cartridges for our seltzer machine, and recovers lost data, both in my computer and brain. But you'd think someone willing to do all that - and uncomplainingly - would pick up after himself.

Without support from Congress, I'm left with no recourse other than to lock him up in our apartment and hold him hostage until he sympathizes with his captor in what’s called the Stockholm syndrome, when he will become dependent on me for survival and feel guilty enough to put things away. But what happens if our car runs out of windshielf fluid?

Let this be added to Teddy Kennedy's legacy.

Saturday, August 29, 2009

Barbra Streisand may have new version of "You've Got a Friend" - by Sybil Adelman Sage

A former boyfriend of Barbra Streisand’s has put three, 50-year-old tapes of her singing in his Greenwich Village apartment on the web site, with bids starting at $1 million dollars. Barry Dennen met Streisand in 1959, having taken over for an actor who’d dropped out of an off-off-Broadway production of “The Insect Comedy,” a play in which Barbra and Barry both appeared as butterflies. All the fluttering, not surprisingly, led to their becoming lovers, making me wonder whatever happened to the original butterfly who’d been replaced. Whom did he pollinate?

Dennen claims he put Streisand on the road to stardom by exposing her to chanteuses and cabaret singers, which, without his assistance, would surely have escaped her notice among all the other distractions of New York City. Details of their relationship are available in a book he wrote in 1997, “My Life With Barbra: A Love Story.” According to his web site, “He is currently very active doing voice-overs for vidoe (sic) games, including the voice of FatMan in the hugely successful video game Metal Gear Solid II, and Master Li in the recently-completed Jade Empire." He is planning a book. Might it be, "My Life With Barbra: The Law Suit?”

Were we all remiss not to have gotten pre-nups, pre-shtups or pre-artistic agreements before we shared our creativity, beds and bodies? This raises the issue of what moral and legal obligations we have to former lovers? Isn’t there a statute of limitation on our personal lives?

Am I in danger of an old boyfriend writing, “My Life With Sybil: A Love Story?” Will someone allege to have introduced me to “Leave it to Beaver” and, thereby, claim responsibility for my career as a television comedy writer? Will riddles, pissy letters, yearbook inscriptions and autograph books I signed that ended, “2 good, 2 B, 4 Gotten?” be auctioned off? Worse, will I face the embarrassment that the starting price will be considerably less than $1 million?

Sunday, August 23, 2009

Whole Lotta Shakin' Goin' on at Whole Foods -- by Sybil Adelman Sage

The people have spoken, well, vegans and the Prius set. Those who who buy pesticide-free and sustainable foods are boycotting what had been their house of worship, Whole Foods, to protest the store's chief executive, John Mackey, publicly denouncing governmental participation in health care.

This is nothing if not change, which Obama had promised us. Conservative Theodore Olson is favoring same-sex marriage, and Republicans eager to undermine Obama are undoubtedly instructing their drivers take them to Whole Foods to show support for Mackey's position by buying tofu. W ill this be the new definition of "alternative lifestyles?"

Monday, August 17, 2009

Don't Text Message While Performing a Circumcision & other texting guidelines -- by Sybil Adelman Sage

Recent studies show that DWT (driving while texting) is dangerous, making text messaging the new drinking. Even before these findings, I was never tempted to text, work on a crossword puzzle, tweeze my eyebrows or polish my toenails while behind the wheel. I live carefully, changing the batteries in my smoke detector as soon as it buzzes, not using plastic in the microwave and being sure to take a baby aspirin daily.

But apparently others are text messaging while whipping along a highway, feeling an urgency to respond to, "Yo, where do you want to hang tonight?" and then, most unfortunately, slamming into another car. Such was the case with a 22-year-old Arizona woman who hit a stationary emergency vehicle, despite the blazing warning lights, as she was text messaging and driving.

It’s not only mortality and bodily damage at issue, but during the claims process, insurance companies check cell-phone use preceding an accident, and texting affects your chances of being reimbursed. Texting while driving, like fooling with your cell phone, BlackBerry or GPS system, has been determined to be a leading factor in accidents. I anticipate a follow-up study telling us that an electric razor, Kindle and a personal vibrator are also not recommended for use while operating heavy machinery.

Studies indicate that close to half the drivers aged 16 to 17 admit to texting while driving. In some states, young or inexperienced drivers are banned from using cell phones, even a hands-free kit, with emergency calls exempted.

Until further studies are performed, my advice is to stay away from using your cell phone or other handheld device while piloting a plane, waterskiing or rope climbing, performing delicate eye surgery or a circumcision, being under oath or a chuppah and during sex, even if you find yourself momentarily in a hands-free circumstance.

Friday, August 7, 2009

"Bill Clinton...or else!" -- by Sybil Adelman Sage

There's been speculation that caving to Kim Jong-Il's ultimatum that journalists Euna Lee and Laura Ling would be released contingent on Bill Clinton appearing in North Korea could lead to other demands. They may be right.

The Chinese government announced it will cancel the trials of two men who'd pushed for official inquiries into the causes of school collapses during the 2008 earthquake in Sichuan Province only if Bill Clinton comes to China, helps build earthquake-proof school buildings and eats their heavily-peppered chicken specialty.

Iran's Mahmoud Ahmadinejad agreed to ease up attacks on the protestors and replace his beige jacket providing Bill Clinton comes to Iran and accepts him as a friend on Facebook.

Wal-Mart stipulated that it will develop a more responsible and sustainable policy only if Bill Clinton will be the spokesperson for the company.

New York's Mayor Michael Bloomberg announced he will prohibit cars from driving on all Manhattan streets and serve four more terms unless Bill Clinton makes a You Tube video with him.

Bunk twelve at Camp Indian Head is refusing to clean up their bunk unless Bill Clinton is hired as their tennis counselor.

Bill Clinton, proud of his success, has offered to help resolve the feud between Heidi Klum and Elle Mac Pherson.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

"Always Ready Man:" 24/7? - by Sybil Adelman Sage

How many times have I been jolted out of a deep sleep by a TV commercial with a booming male voice pushing Cialis so that he can "always be ready"? Getting awakened by promos for sexual aids is the new getting awakened to have sex.

Cialis also makes a shorter-acting dosage that will limit his readiness to three days, no doubt tailored for those with sexual ADD, medical residents, firefighters, astronauts and the terminally ill, but also useful for the commitment phobic. By checking the dosage, the partner can predetermine how long to expect him to stick around … unless he’s a day trader and will spread his readiness around.

As a woman already multitasking and on overload, I hope our house will be a Cialis-free zone. And it’s not just my husband I'm thinking about. I wouldn’t welcome an "always ready" guy at one of our dinner parties. The commercial cautions those taking the sex-enhancement pill not to drink excessively, which can be a useful screening tool. If a man is limiting his alcohol intake and is not a recovering alcoholic or Muslim, it could be he’s on Cialis. As a hostess, I’d rather not have a dinner guest who’s "always ready" come into the kitchen while I’m scraping food off plates.

The promo makes the claim, "Only a physician can determine if it’s right for you." Aren’t they overlooking the guy’s partner, the one who has to respond to his new, round the clock readiness? It could cut into time designated for finishing a novel, training for the marathon or engaging in a scrapbooking project. I've been told Cialis is a blue pill. So is Ambien. Would he notice if they were switched?

There’s an added cautionary note advising the "always ready" guy to call his doctor if he has an erection lasting more than four hours. Trying to reach a doctor is a lot like calling Fandango. You get a series of taped options, telling you the appropriate button to push, none telling you what to press "if your erection is heading into hour five." Better than calling a doctor may be to scamper over to Hooters.

Monday, August 3, 2009

Memo to Julie Powell of "Julie & Julia" - by Sybil Adelman Sage

Everyone has heard of you -- the blogger who set out in 2002 to prepare every recipe in Julia Child's "Mastering the Art of French Cooking," which was turned into a book and then released as a movie. On your blog you assert that you are returning from the red carpet opening in Los Angeles to Queens with the intention of reclaiming your pre-Julia lack of stature. I have bad news. Obscurity is like virginity: they're irreversible...even in Long Island City, where there are not all that many celebrities to share the limelight with you. Also, I hate to remind you that Long Island City is closer to the Hamptons than the upper East Side.

Trust me, I'm a certified nobody. I was prescient and had the good sense not to come up with the Sybil/Mina Project, dedicated to my deceased mother and her incomparable borcht, brisket, schav, sour pickle and blintzes recipes, thereby retaining the rights to my nobodyness in perpetuity. Unlike you, I knew that Meryl Streep would be cast as Mina Adelman (a role Meryl could have played with her hands tied behind her back even while rolling dough to outdo Mina's sister-in-law, Clara, in their lifelong knish showdown), assuring me that the blog/book would become a major motion picture.

You can return to Queens, but you'll be bringing amenities from your corner suite at the Four Seasons Hotel. We nobodys stay at the Out of Season Hotel, and our travel arrangements aren't booked by a publishing house or PR firm. We use Priceline. And we don't have Q & A's at Borders. The only question asked of us in a book store is, "Do you have another credit card? This one isn't working."

The reality, Julie, is the ship has sailed. You can't go back to being a nobody...certainly not while the movie is in theaters and you're awaiting the release of your next book, which could be double jeopardy as you have the added risk that Meryl Streep, with an almost unparalleled range of talent) will be cast as the butcher you apprenticed for and you'll have yet another huge box office hit to interfere with the normal life you crave.

Friday, July 31, 2009

Happy Hour - sort of - at The White House -- by Sybil Adelman Sage

They could have been any three guys chugging beers except that they were President Obama, Cambridge police officer James Crowley and Harvard professor, Henry Louis Gates, Jr., nibbling on peanuts and pretzels on the White House South Lawn, nobody willing to say, "My bad."

As Vice President Joe Biden joined them, Lucia Whalen, who happened to be passing by the White House, called 911 to report "strange activity on the South Lawn." The police arrived and led the handcuffed Barack Obama and Professor Gates off the property. Biden and Crowley had a chugging contest, after which they covered the Oval Office with graffiti, later characterized by Obama as "stupid."

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

"Michael & Paul Have Issues" - by Sybil Adelman Sage

The post-Olympics Michael Phelps has had a run of problems, enough so that Comedy Central might think about doing a spin-off from its new "Michael & Michael Have Issues," this one to star Phelps, with the simpler title, "Michael Has Issues."

The most recent is that his record was broken by Germany's Paul Biedermann, wearing a polyurethane suit that was credited with adding to his speed. The fabric will soon be banned by swimming's governing body, FINA.

Lessons learned:

When late for an appointment, wear polyurethane.

Stick with the Miracle Suit. Though it doesn't add speed, it does make you appear ten pounds thinner. You may arrive late, but you'll be svelte.

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Dog Breeders Make A List -- by Sybil Adelman Sage

In today's New York Times, Merce Cunningham garnered the entire Page A22 ("continued from Page A1"), consistent with the paper's policy of chronicling accomplishments when a celebrity dies. But would the choreographer have felt diminished if he'd known that he'd be linked in death with Martha Watson Stern, "Dog Breeder, 72," also honored with an editorial obit, though much smaller, and on Page A23 (not "continued from Page A1")?

"Are dog breeders now considered celebrities?" I asked my husband, who doesn't share my preoccupation with rite of passage announcements and their reflection of one's status. Not just any dead person can get a nod from the Times obit editors. The newspaper has strict standards, but Martha Watson Stern was deemed newsworthy by virtue of having owned the Texas kennel that bred Bo, the Obamas' dog.

This is a big day for breeders, who, with this recognition, will find themselves being asked to endorse rawhide bones, provide book blurbs and help getting kids into nursery schools and colleges. Names from Westminster will be dropped at Hampton parties. "Oh, she bred the bitch Rahm Emanuel almost bought for his kids."

To show their gratitude, breeders might consider discouraging paper training, at least on the New York Times.

Monday, July 27, 2009

Nobody's Asking Me -- by Sybil Adelman Sage

As it appeared on wowowow:

Larry King interviewed Michael Jackson’s father for an entire hour and found out nothing I couldn’t have told him. It’s not that I was intimate with the King of Pop. I’d never been to Neverland, hadn’t gone mall shopping with Michael or, in fact, ever met him. But I did read an issue of his dermatologist’s Daily Variety while waiting to see Arnold Klein’s partner, David Rish, who was treating my eczema. I thought it strange that a skin doctor, even in Beverly Hills, subscribed to a show-business trade paper. As the story has unfolded, that may not be the dermatologist’s only quirk. And though mine is not a name associated with Michael Jackson, I had no less information than Joe Jackson, who told Larry King he’d learned about his son’s death from fans. I couldn’t have answered when Larry asked where Michael was being buried, but neither could Joe. Given that Michael never forgave his father for slapping him around, I’m sure he’d have preferred to have me, or perhaps almost anyone else, discuss him on national television. Larry King slipped up big time.

Similarly, I was watching 40 years ago when Neil Armstrong became the first man to walk on the moon, but was I asked to talk about that memory? All the interviews were with NASA people, though I was prepared to talk about this event in a way none of them could. Having been single for 38 years, I’m well acquainted with what it feels like to have men walking all over you. It took years to get the footprints off my face. For me, it was a refreshing change to have a man walk on the moon. Even then, I wanted to warn the moon, "Sure, right now he’s having his picture taken with you, but don’t be fooled. Once he’s done tromping on you, you’ll never see this guy again!"

I was also overlooked during the public mourning for Walter Cronkite, though I’d been a loyal viewer, fixated on the TV during all of Cronkite’s coverage of the JFK assassination, Watergate, the Iran Hostage Crisis and the Beatles’ first appearance on American television. I was not approached by CBS or any news stations to share my feelings about one of my favorite anchors. Like so many, I considered him "the most trusted man in America," though given my history with men, the bar had been set rather low. My personal connection with Walter Cronkite was, admittedly, not intimate, but not everyone they interviewed was necessarily closer to him than I’d been. I once lived in an apartment building with a woman he dated after the death of his wife, though this wasn’t while they were involved.

Since I have not been overexposed, I’m keeping the phones free as my turn must be coming. I go to doctors and deal with co-pays, so am a natural to comment on Obama’s health-care reform speech. If not that, many friends know I got locked out of my house the night I was nominated for an Emmy and had to crawl in the window when I returned home (after not winning), which makes me a logical choice to discuss the incident with Harvard’s Henry Louis Gates being arrested after getting into his own house. At the very least, I’ve had both good and bad cuts, so I expect I’ll be brought in to discuss Michelle Obama’s recent hairstyle change.

Saturday, July 25, 2009

New Diplomatic Strategy at the White House -- by Sybil Adelman Sage

President Obama, who became part of the conversation after saying Sgt. James Crowley, a white police officer, "acted stupidly" when he arrested Harvard professor Henry Louis Gates Jr. in his own home, personally telephoned the two men with the hope of resolving the discord by inviting them to the White House for a beer.

If this works, look for Obama to schedule Octoberfests to mediate a truce between:

North Korean dictator Kim Chong-il and South Korean President Lee Myung-Bak

Senior Leader of Hamas, Ismail Haneya, and Fatah head, Mahmoud Abbas (mint tea)

Dick Cheney and George W. Bush re Scooter Libby (O'Doul's non-alcoholic malt beverage for the former prez)

Candy and Tori Spelling

David Letterman and Sarah Palin

Perez Hilton and

Friday, July 24, 2009

Did Jenny Craig Stir the Pot About Dr. Regina Benjamin's Weight? -- by Sybil Adelman Sage

It's my suspicion that the controversy about President Obama's nominee for Surgeon General may have been instigated by Jenny Craig with the hope of attracting Dr. Benjamin to become a spokesperson for her diet and appear on commercials with pictures of overweight "before" pictures, followed by "after" shots showing the newly svelte winner of the Mac Arthur Genius Award, now free to wear clingy, matte jersey and thin enough to serve the country.

More than ever before, we should pay careful attention to the tiny words that flicker imperceptibly at the bottom of the screen in every weight loss promo, a message designed to go unnoticed: "Results may not be typical." Not only are we unlikely to trim down as dramatically as this select group, but, additionally, dieting is no assurance we will be tapped to be Surgeon General.

Look For New version of "Jersey Boys" - by Sybil Adelman Sage

Weekly Variety:

There will be an open casting call for corrupt types to play the mayors of Hoboken, Ridgefield and Secaucus, Jersey City's deputy mayor, and two state assemblymen and five men to play rabbis from New York and New Jersey, accused of laundering millions of dollars.

Tuesday, July 21, 2009

An Open Letter to President Obama: from Sybil Adelman Sage

Dear President Obama:

My husband did his best to console me once it became clear that I wasn't among the progressive bloggers you considered influential enough to participate in the conference call to help gain support for your health care agenda. "I'm sure Obama tried to call," he said, "while you were at the gym." With your numbers slipping, you might show more respect for my readers, who will, I'm sure, be indignant on my behalf and are likely to organize protests in major American cities as well as on the lawn of the White House. I just hope they don't trample Michele's vegetable garden.

Though I didn't hear from you personally, I saw you on TV, trying to persuade the general public that we need health care, "sooner, rather than later." Had I been among the elite group of bloggers included in the call, I would have shared what had been my highly successful strategy for pressing a very reluctant boyfriend to marry me "sooner, rather than later. With my input, all of America would shortly be insured and able to have long-overdue hysterectomies, hip replacements and gall stones removed. And your ratings would surely reflect their gratitude.

Hillary, too, didn't call before leaving for Bangkok. If she had, I'd have given her the name of a tailor who'd custom make pant suits for a fraction of what she pays here. Like me, she may not be on today's call sheet, but if you should speak to her, tell her to stop in at Milan Suit on Sukhumvit Road near Soi 14.

Monday, July 20, 2009

How To Remain A Nobody - by Sybil Adelman Sage

For those who haven't read it on WOWOWOW:

Fame, I discovered at an early age, requires being cordial to strangers and tipping at least 20%, just two reasons I carved out a life to insure being a nobody, a status that’s highly underrated. A nobody isn’t asked to appear at charity events, is less likely to attract stalkers and can blow off religious zealots in airports and Greenpeace workers on street corners. A nobody is free to abuse food or drugs without getting media attention and is in less danger of family secrets being revealed in a memoir written by a former nanny.

I was first officially recognized as a nobody when a friend’s chauffeur stopped in front of a New York theater to drop me off. Someone rushed over to check out who was in the limo, immediately dismissing me with a disappointed wave and telling a companion, “It’s nobody.” That was a memorable moment, confirming I was free to go out in public with no make-up, something I value far more than being able to snag a table at Rao’s.

An important step to insure obscurity is being born into a family where you’re not expected to go on stage and sing with your siblings even before you’ve learned long division. I had an added advantage in that none of my dead grandmothers had been named, “Paris,” so I wasn’t saddled with a name that makes fame almost inevitable. My first job was in Marketing Research, a field populated with unknowns, where even the hottest of the coder-tabulators can freely walk around without dark glasses and not get assailed by admirers. In fact, no one in the lobby of the Empire State Building was willing to stop and help me complete a survey by answering a few questions like, “Which bathing cap would you be more likely to buy?”

After moving to L.A. and getting involved in show business, my early jobs – taking dictation from a studio vice-president or answering phones for the manager of the Marquis Chimps – did not put me at risk of notoriety. It wasn’t until I started working as a secretary to prominent, show business personalities and later as a scriptwriter that I experienced fame, witnessing embarrassing adulation, shameless staring, whispering and requests for autographs. There was no way to avoid being exposed to secondhand fame.

When we both sported the same frizzy, Harpo Marx-like curls, I was often mistaken for Barbra Streisand, accosted by her fans and, more surprisingly, greeted by her friends. “How are you, Barbra?” I was asked, clutched to the chest of a stranger while doing lunch (show biz people “do” everything), at the Paramount commissary.

“Fine,” I answered, struggling to get free, “but I’m not Barbra.”

Several years later, I became a television writer and agreed to being interviewed for an article that would appear in “TV Guide.” Obscene phone calls and letters from prisoners alerted me that I had to be more discreet. I couldn’t afford to be careless and risk losing my nobodyness. To avoid gaining prominence, I signed with agents who promised “a five year plan,” code for that’s the length of time they take to return a phone call. And I did my part by turning down offers to produce hit shows and freely expressing opinions at meetings that contradicted those of network vice presidents. I managed my personal life similarly, avoiding becoming Oprah’s best friend, not marrying Bill Gates, Donald Trump or a Kennedy, never having an affair with a married politician, staying far away from YouTube and not becoming the governor of Alaska.

To retain my nobody status, I’ve chosen to blog, rather than pursue a newspaper column or book deal. It’s not totally worry-free as there are bloggers who achieve celebrity status, but I trust my readers will tweet, dig and comment in moderation so as not to threaten my nobodyishness.

Friday, July 17, 2009

Older Women Having Babies?!! Sybil Adelman Sage

A 66-year-old woman and a 70-year old woman have recently given birth, and now Jenny Brown, a 72-year-old who lives in London, is attempting to have a baby, going through in vitro fertilization treatments that began when she was in her early fifties. The reason she gives for waiting is, “My studies meant that children kept getting delayed.” Did she ever consider taking a speed reading course?

Brown is appealing for women between the ages of 20 and 35 to come forward as possible egg donors, explaining that by carrying the baby, she'll pass on her genetic material. "I believe the baby will look more like me that way." Does she really want to give birth to a grey-haired newborn with liver spots and reading glasses?!

If this trend continues, the cost of fertility treatments could put an additional strain on Medicare.

Monday, July 13, 2009

What's Really Behind Sarah Palin's Publicity Sybil Adelman Sage

Sunday's Washington Times quoted Sarah Palin: "I will go around the country on behalf of candidates who believe in the right things, regardless of their party label or affiliation." My suspicion: a brilliant blackmail strategy to inspire candidates to fork over hush money to lose Palin's endorsement.

In today's New York Times friends have reported that Palin's hair, the most substantial thing about her, has been thinning. My suspicion: Sarah is fishing to do commercials for Rogaine.

And on the topic of fishing. My suspicion: the overalls and rubber boots are a shameless ploy to get her on the cover of the L.L. Bean Catalog.

The very public tensions between the soon to be former governor of Alaska and her not quite son-in-law, often referred to as "the father of Sarah Palin's grandchild." My suspicion: they're gunning for a sit-com, All in the Family meets Northern Exposure.

Saturday, July 11, 2009

Bush's Wiretapping Missed Ensign's Extra-political Affair

How inept was the Bush White House that with all their warrantless wiretapping, they never listened in on the ever-growing group of married, Republican politicians having extra-political affairs? They knew nothing about John Ensign's involvement with Cindy Hampton, who'd been his bookkeeper, until her husband, the Nevada senator's former chief of staff, went public with the story.

It's no surprise that the recent report, compiled by five inspector generals, questions how much valuable intelligence the wiretapping program has yielded. If the eavesdropping didn't pick up on local transgressions right there in Washington, how could it conceivably have been effective in the "war against terror?"

Conservative Christian lawmakers are said to have created a safe harbor in an apartment building known as the "Prayer House." Would it not have been more fitting to name their highly charged, testosterone frat house "Animal House?" I suspect they've had to tweak prayer books to conform to their lifestyles, and that in their version of the 23rd Psalm, they excised, "Lead us not into temptation."

Cindy and Doug Hampton both lost their jobs, but received $96,000 as "severance pay" from the senator's parents. Doug, who might have been a valuable addition to the wiretapping squad, is now employed by a Las Vegas airline, where he has the apt title, "vice president of government affairs."

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

Sarah Palin and I are both lame Sybil Sage

After twenty-nine years of marriage, I could fairly be called a lame duck wife, whose family and friends are bored with my anecdotes and mustard chicken. I am, therefore, announcing that it will be better for everyone in New York State if I pass the torch and let someone else do the talking and cooking for my family.

This does not mean that I won't be useful to my loved ones. I'm wired to be useful, but I do not need a title to serve. My resolution followed the realization that I have no intention of marrying again so it makes perfect sense to terminate this marriage, which is what I will do in three weeks.

Sunday, July 5, 2009 online support for adulterers e-mailed me today, introducing their site as a “Discreet Dating Community For Married People, and for Single People that want to meet and date unhappy married people.” needs editing. Among the many grammatical errors is that the description should read…”for single people who want to meet and date unhappy married people.” And I suspect they mean “unhappily married people,” rather than downers.

Did someone steer them to me? Perhaps a vindictive Nigerian I'd ignored? Did my husband receive the same opportunity? Should I be concerned that he’s now at his computer?

The options provided are:

Press here if you want to have an affair with a married woman or man
Press here if you're in a relationship and want to have an affair
Press here if you want to have an affair with a married person

Missing is the reason that would tempt me: “Press here if you’re happily married, but looking to connect with politicians to have a voice in the nation’s health plan.”

The evidence is married people manage to have adulterous relationships without assistance. Could it be that this website was generated by spouses looking to catch their mates? Or by Mark Sanford’s spiritual advisor? (I'm aware that's a sentence fragment).