Sometimes, people, you just gotta let yourself laugh… Enjoy the moment - no matter WHAT curve balls the world throws at you.
I am alone and without family today, Christmas Eve. I will be alone when I wake up tomorrow morning on Christmas Day.
And I am thoroughly enjoying it.
You may ask why, when you read this next little bit, but I’ll explain afterward:
When my fourteen year old asked to stay with his dad (two states away) for the holidays, because, hey – he’s a teenager, and all his friends, cool cousins and festivities are there – I was actually fine with it. I gave him the choice – with a minor caveat: He had to put a gift (we were doing gag gifts this year) together and get it in the mail to me, so I would have it and know he was thinking of me on Christmas Day. I figured it was a fair trade off.
Then, when I spoke to his dad yesterday – the day BEFORE Christmas Eve, and he couldn’t “remember” whether they had shipped the package, I knew the chances were pretty good I wouldn’t be receiving anything for Christmas from my teenager. His dad can be such a schlub, and my son – sadly – (and if he doesn’t wise up) is definitely in danger of becoming one too.
So – I know I am Ms. Cheevious. I’m a cool, whimsical, fun-loving person at heart. But that really pissed me off.
My brain swung to every extreme of the pendulum. I could bring the kid back to my home, make him live with me for the rest of his high-school years and tell him “too bad… tough toast… suck it up” when he cries about it…. or, I could simply ignore him… pretend he doesn’t exist… that I don’t have a teenage son… and make him do any and all the work (groveling, begging) to prove he really is my flesh and blood, if he is so inclined… or, I could simply do nothing. Right now I am inclined to do nothing.
You know why? Because today and this weekend, my friends, is all about ME. I don’t have TIME to get upset about someone ELSE’s lack of respect, or selfishness, or responsibility… As I said, right now is all about ME! I can’t be bothered sniveling, worrying – or even expending all that negative time and energy – on something someone else did or did not do! So I adjusted my attitude. I had to remind myself that I had so looked forward to this new adventure of spending the holiday as a SOLO person – something I have never done – and by god, I was NOT going to let anything take my “cool” holiday away from me.
Then I took an inventory of my solo time thus far.
Since Monday when I dropped my guy M.C. Nugget off at the airport to visit his family back east, I have enjoyed: 1) a luscious Thai Massage, 2) a fabulous sushi dinner and drinks with a gal pal, 3) a crazy jaunt to the movie theatre – at a MALLLLLL (right before Christmas) – and none of my friends or family could complain about the crowds or anything, and 4) a quiet dinner at Nuggie’s beach pad with another gal pal, watching movies and commiserating about our future successes as power people in Hollywood.
What more could one ask? HA!
Then, after my friend left last night, I tucked myself into Nuggie’s oh-so-cozy bed, and fell into a sweet slumber. When I woke up this morning at 9:00 AM, I opened my eyes and smiled. It was so peaceful, and I thought about spending the entire day doing only that which pleased ME. Me me me me meeeeeeee!
Then I actually laughed out loud – kinda sinister-like. Heh, heh. What a turn of events, eh? Me – Ms. Cheevious – craving the delights of solitude during a time of year that is DESIGNED for festivity!
Oh – I’ll get mine – don’t you worry – cuz Nuggie’s coming back on Monday – and then it’s New Year’s Eve! But for now, I am content to forget all my troubles and LAUGH, and enjoy every single moment this Holiday has to offer!
Tonight I am at a dinner party with friends, and tomorrow my schedule is jammed with festivities… from a brunch with some Hollywood power-people, to a glass of cheer and gift exchange with my oldest son… and then dinner with a separate group of friends.
So, during this holiday season, and even after one of the toughest years financially known to man, in the history of our country – when most people still get sappy, drippy-eyed, sweet as sugar and sentimental about it – I am consciously setting aside my worries, troubles, etc… to enjoy myself…. DAMMIT!!
And when your family or loved ones say something to hurt you or piss you off - look them square in the face and LAUGH OUT LOUD. Just don’t do it too aggressively. We don’t want violence over the holidays. But laugh like you mean it… like you have something great to laugh about, and to enjoy. They’ll either think you’ve gone a little whacko, or they’ll realize that your positive, happy demeanor cannot be penetrated by their parasitic, negative behavior.
That’ll teach them to screw with your holidays. HA!
So, tune in next time when I’ll tell you all about the Fraggle Rock red carpet event I took my people to. It was star studded, and funnnnn.
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Hello you lovely, gorgeous people out there! Welcome to the land of all-things-Ms.Cheevious. Okay – maybe not so much this week. This week I’m finishing up a two part series dedicated to and in honor of my lovely, wonderful, incredibly warm and caring mother – Nereide Francesca Padalino Sherwood – who passed away early, December 3, 2009.
If you are new here – well, gee – thanks for stopping in. I hope you enjoy yourself, though I must admit – this post is not characteristic of my usual posts. But now that you are here – read it – and learn something, would ya? And… uhm… you may want to come back again if you’re looking for the sexy, fun, flirty antics of Ms. Cheevious. Because this won’t be that — and I’m happy to say so.
The story below, originally entitled, “Miracle on 44th Street” was written and picked up by internet magazine The New York Review (now defunct due to the sluggish economy). It was taken from my mother’s dictated life story, and written in story form.
Of all the stories of her life, this is one of my favorites. It captures the magical life my mother led. It was that type of life she taught us to live for.
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I walked down Maiden Lane on my way home from work and headed toward the subway. It was a beautiful summer day in June, 1942. I loved the feeling of the warm sun on my face as I walked. Was it only because I was able to leave work early that day that I noticed the grand weather we were having? It was only a temporary job. I was so sure when I took it, that I would find something else before the two weeks were up, but now it was over, and I was painfully unemployed. How on earth would I help support my mother?
As the subway neared Time Square, I decided to get off. There was no need to rush home to the Bronx, and cranky old Aunt Lib just yet. Besides, I loved Time Square. It reminded me of everything I wanted: the glitz and glamour of life as an actress on Broadway.
Walking by the Astor Hotel on Broadway, I picked up a copy of Actor’s Equity, a theatre trade magazine, which told of rehearsals and upcoming auditions. I noticed that a talent agency was auditioning for some plays on the 7th floor of the Sardy building on 44th street, across from the Shubert Theatre, so I went to check it out. I quickly learned that all the auditions were for summer stock up in the Catskills, and my heart sank. I couldn’t go up to the Catskills, work for free, and support my mother at the same time!
I got in the elevator to go down, and at the 5th floor, everyone from the audition got out. I thought I’d better get out and see what was happening! I followed everyone past a secretary into a huge waiting room. We waited, and waited. After sitting there for two and a half hours, I finally got the nerve to ask an old gentlemen next to me, “Pardon me, but who are we waiting for?”
He said, “We’re waiting to see Mr. Simpson”
After a few more minutes, I replied, “Is anybody going to see him?”
He said, “You’re new. Why don’t you go see the secretary and see if you can see Mr. JJ?”
I didn’t know who Mr. JJ was, but I figured he would be a good person to start with. I went over to the secretary, and asked her about it. She took my name “Nereide Padalino,” and disappeared.
Ten minutes later she called my name and took me down a maze of passageways – lined with movie and theatre star photos. She led me into an impressive office with windows overlooking 44th Street. “Mr. JJ” was none other than JJ Shubert, and was sitting at his desk in his shirt sleeves. He stood up immediately and apologized, explaining that he tore his jacket on a nail and sent it down to the tailor to be fixed (in those days it was impolite to be in the presence of ladies without wearing your suit coat).
“Well, Miss Pah-dah-lino,” he attempted, “What can I do for you?” He smiled nicely.
“Well that’s just it, Mr. JJ. I sure hope you can do something for me! I have to get a job to help my mother, but I want to get into show business!” I blurted.
“Well,” he asked, contemplating, “What can you do?”
I eagerly offered, “I had the lead in the high school play, and I sing in the church choir.” Talk about an inexperienced, ingénue, country girl!
He was sweet, nonetheless, as he said, “Come with me.”
He stood up, took my hand, and led me down the hall to “Simpson’s” room, where old Simpson was sitting at a big grand piano. The big boss Mr. Shubert, told this schnook, who kept all those people waiting in the other room, “Simpson, play a few notes for the young lady.”
Simpson played a few notes, and I did some trills for him, “Tra la la la.” Mr. JJ said, “That’s just fine.”
He took my hand again and led me back to his office. We sat down and he looked at me and said “Let me see what I can do for you. Why don’t you give me your phone number and I will call you in a couple of days if I can find something.” And that was it!
I went home to Aunt Lib’s house. It was already after 6pm and she was furious!
“Young lady! Do you realize what time it is!? Where have you been!?” she screamed.
“I was with Mr. JJ Shubert.” I replied.
“Come off it!” she retorted, “You’re in New York now! Who do you think you are, you hillbilly? Somebody just told you he was JJ Shubert! There are a lot of con artists out there now!”
“I swear! It was Mr. JJ!” I defended. I relayed the whole story about his office and where it was located. So, she called her best friend Eva. Eva had a niece who was one of the famous Rockettes.
She hung up the phone and huffed, “Eva said there is no way on earth you got in to see Mr. Shubert. Her niece said he is the hardest man in show business to get to see!”
“Well, he told me he’s going to call me in a couple of days. He’s going to see if he can find me a job.” I responded.
“We’ll see about that! You gotta be careful who you talk to!” She snapped.
After a couple of days, and no phone call, I went down to see Mr. JJ again.
I said directly, “Mr. JJ, you said you’d call me. I’ve been waiting! I’ve got to get some work!”
“You know Nereide,” he said kindly, “This being June, there are no shows opening at all in the summer, except the summer stock in the mountains.”
“Well, I can’t wait. I have to get a job now. I have to help support my mother.” I pleaded.
“Well Nereide, what else can you do?” he asked hopefully.
“I took short-hand and typing in school. I can do some secretarial work,” I said enthusiastically.
He called his secretary in. “Give this young girl a pad and a pencil,” he said. “Take this down,” he said in his dictation voice. He proceeded to dictate a very short letter of about three sentences. I was so nervous, I had to memorize it! I couldn’t even write.
“Okay. There’s a typewriter out there. Type it up and bring it to me,” he said in a mock-authoritative voice.
I went out and typed it. Would you believe I made three errors on it? I took it into him. He didn’t say a word, he was so kind.
He asked, “How much were you making at your last job?” I only made eighteen dollars a week, but I lied and told him twenty. “Alright” he said, “You can start working here.”
I should have been thrilled, but I was relentless. I reminded him “But, I want to get in show business.”
“Well, nothing starts rehearsing until September. So, until then you can work here in the office,” he answered me, closing the deal.
I settled quickly into my new job. I was responsible for typing the re-writes for the man who revised the operettas into modern language for the librettos. JJ was always sweet and very polite. He was like a father to me.
As time passed and summer was coming to a close, I asked, “Mr. JJ, when are they starting rehearsals? I am doing all the scores for these plays and things.”
He asked “What do you want to do? You want to go with the cast of The Student Prince, Blossom Time, The Merry Widow or Gilbert and Sullivan?”I was so green, I said, “Well, who are Gilbert & Sullivan?”
He said, “It’s a repertory company. They do about eight to twelve plays.”
I thought for a second and replied, “That sounds interesting, because then you wouldn’t be bored with the same thing every night! I think that sounds like the one I want to do.”
He smiled, and asked, “Are you sure my dear? It’s a very hard life in show business.”
I quickly replied, “I know, but I’ve got to try it. I’m dying to get on the stage!”
It was settled. Mr. JJ sent me to Murray Korman Photography Studio to get some professional photographs taken. He even had Murrary Korman send him the bill. I said goodbye, and I never saw Mr. JJ again.
I walked right into the chorus line of the Gilbert and Sullivan Repertory Company. I never even had to audition. My friends in the chorus later told me “We heard there was going to be an office stooly coming in.”
They soon learned I wasn’t. I was so thrilled to be a part of it all and to live my dream. I worked very hard, and loved every moment.
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Yes, my mom was all about enjoying life, and it was infectious. It’s where I get my motto – Enjoy Every Moment.
Before I go, I’ve posted some of the video clips from my mother’s funeral service. The first is a song our brother Jim sang for a part of the mass – during which all of my mom’s grand-children who were present and old enough, brought the communion implements to the priest.
Next is the video of my sisters and I singing the “Holy, Holy, Holy” portion of the mass. If you’re Catholic, you’ll know what that is. If not, you may recognize the song anyway. It was an honor for us to do this for her:
So there you have it! My two-part hommage to the woman who shaped and molded me throughout my childhood and into adulthood. Neither she nor I had anyway of knowing the magnitude with which her words, actions, love and tenderness would impact my life, and the lives of everyone I know. She is largely responsible for much of who I am today, and I am eternally grateful. Here’s to you Mom! I love you.
And with that – I leave you to have a fantastic weekend. Enjoy your friends, family, work, play — whatever you have near you and at your finger tips!
Next week I promise to get back to my Ms. Cheevious ways and tell you all about the mischief in Hollywood.
Register to receive these posts via email! Go to the Ms. Cheevious Home page, and enter your email address where it asks for it, then click subscribe. It’s that easy!
This is the first in a two-part series I am posting in honor of my lovely, wonderful, incredibly warm and caring mother – Nereide Francesca Padalino Sherwood – who passed away early today, December 3, 2009. I and all of my siblings, as well as our entire family will miss her deeply, and are only comforted to know that our beloved’s suffering is over, and she can now rest eternally.
The story below, originally entitled, “An Italian Daughter” was written for a website I started years ago, called ExtendedCircles.com.
The premise for Extended Circles was to give people an opportunity to reach out and really “meet” or “get to know” others from diverse cultures and backgrounds. Alas, though the site still exists, I have other projects that take precidence, and have back-burnered it for now.
This is one of the “circles” that my mother authorized about her own life. I hope you are as touched by her story as I am – every time I read it.
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I was born on September 25, 1924 in Torremaggiore, Italy to Francesco Padalino, my father, an Italian National (also listed in “Who’s Who in Italy for his academic achievements), and my mother Umanita Tamaroglio (who’d been formally trained as an opera singer and pianist in Italy). Though she was born in the United States to Italian immigrants, my mother fled the United States when the marriage went sour, with my older sister Licia (who was only a little over a year old), to the security of life with my paternal grandparents. She was still pregnant with me at the time. My father apparently followed, because he was there at my birth to help name me Nereide Francesca Padalino. Nonetheless, divorce was imminent, though virtually unheard of in those days, particularly in Italy, where it was still illegal! Her mother had intervened in that decision as well, and my mother, I am told, was left heartbroken, and was never the same again.
When my maternal grandmother learned of my mother’s plans to leave Francesco and return to the United States to regain her citizenship, she insisted that my mother could not come to New Jersey (where the rest of her family had emigrated). My grandmother did not want my mother to arrive back home with two babies to care for. So, even though I was just an infant, my mother found a family that lived on a farm in Tuscany (in Foyana de la Chiana) for me to live with. The wife, Julia Farcetti, took her 1 1/2 year old baby off the breast, to breastfeed me! She became my wet nurse.
My mother took my older sister Licia back to the United States to live with her family. She found a job working for a doctor and sent money occasionally to my new Italian family, to assist with my care. By the time my mother saved enough money to send for me, I was six years old. I did not understand what was happening to me, except that I would go to America on a ship. I was to be placed in the charge of the captain, Mr. Dinegri, whom my mother had apparently fallen in love with and intended to marry years before!
I remember my Baillia (Italian for “wet nurse”) sitting across from me on the train that took us to Naples where the ship docked. I was leaving the only family I had ever known and was being sent away. Baillia said I would see my real mamma and that I had a sister, too. She appeared sad. I distinctly remember the long, lonely, sad train whistle, which for months afterward always gave rise to tears.
It has been a very long time since those days, and many more adventures between then and now, including some time at a boarding house / orphanage in the care of nuns, where my older sister would not accept me as her sibling – with my broken English and Italian accent. I would try to sleep at night and hear the trains whistling in the distance, and cry from loneliness, only to be soothed by the gentle caresses of a young, lovely nun, who spoke Italian to me.
As I grew, I was determined to make a better life for myself, despite all the obstacles. I went on to have incredible experiences in the New York city theatre scene, working under J. J. Shubert, himself! Those times in the theatre came at what is also known as the golden age of America – just before and during World War II. It was a very difficult time, but everyone in the country worked hard and seemed determined to make it through the war to the promise of a better life. I met the man (Orville Joe Sherwood) I married and built a life with back then as well, and even our chance meeting had storybook implications. We were together for over forty years, and had eleven children together. We opened and operated successful businesses, and watched as our children grew and had children of their own. Joe went into retirement just before he died of cancer in 1988.
My elderly years have been filled with travel, family and fun times, and I realize that the journey is just a very small part of the process. There are wonderful people, faces and places to know and love, and I relish every moment.
Nereide Francesca Padalino Sherwood
September 25, 1924 – December 3, 2009
We love you mom! May you rest in peace!
I leave you all with these words: Don’t ever forget or delay saying “I love you with all my heart” and “Forgive me for ever hurting you” to anyone that you care about.
Register to receive these posts via email! Go to the Ms. Cheevious Home page, and enter your email address where it asks for it, then click subscribe. It’s that easy!
And… uhm… you may want to come back again if you’re looking for the sexy, fun, flirty antics of Ms. Cheevious. Because this won’t be that — and I’m happy to say so.
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