Condomania

Gee, I don’t remember things back in my Way Back resembling the exciting stuff that took place in offices populated by “Mad Men” types, you know, those immaculately conceived males who are carbon copies of each other. As a young lady in the late 50s, yeah, I wore shirtwaist dresses with nipped in waists and full skirts underpinned with crinoline. My feet were shod in high-heels as I sweated my way up a hill in Kansas City, bound at age 18, for a job in a bakery. No, I wasn’t a baker. It was my responsibility to open mail and…

Yes, Senator, you should think twice about removing your shirt, especially since you admit that perhaps you need to shed 15 or 20 lbs. It won’t stop me from supporting you because I wasn’t going to anyway. Even with your shirt on, you lose. I do not want anyone telling me what I can do or not do with my body. Since New Year’s arrival, residents of this building have been huffing and puffing their lives away, downstairs in our community room, determined to get in shape after a winter of pizza and Cheetos. My choice is to not join…

Our condo association board has tabled discussion on the conceal/carry flap, leaving us to wonder: “Hey, is it okay to stroll into our building armed?” What “armed” means these days is murky and leaves me wondering what other condo buildings are doing to take a stand on the issue. A month or so ago, the Milwaukee Police were in our south parking lot, with guns drawn, allegedly trying to get to the bottom of someone driving a Jeep who is currently living in our building. No shots were fired, or you would have likely read about it somewhere online. There…

My mouth is filled with porcelain crowns all in a row, nice and pearly white but not the white of Chiclets. I know of the “Ruby Crowned Kinglet,” a species rarely seen, but I once spotted the little bird at a feeder in my Brookfield home. I also know that Queen Elizabeth wears a crown for Royal doings, but until this week I had never heard the word “crown” used to describe an element that tops-off a condo building. Like the one I live in for instance. The “crown” word came through in our monthly board minutes, sent to us…

My grandpa Moriarty was a member of the South Dakota Supreme Court, but before he rose to that, he was a homesteader who lost his prairie home to foreclosure. He rode a horse named Belle to teach in a one-room school house, graduated from the University of Iowa with a degree in Philosophy, and then read for the law. He was nineteen when he left Iowa for the Dakota territory where he wed a lady from Pleasant Prairie, Wis., and raised ten kids in a sod house out where the wind never stops blowing. Grandpa’s parents came directly from the…

The day known as St. Valentine’s was near. Not that Prince Pauper had ever met Valentine (or for that matter any saints). Still, he knew that the 14th day of February would arrive with a dawn filled with sweetness and light. The Prince had a serious sweet-tooth, less serious since his teeth numbered but three (his dentist warned him!), but he could still gum chocolates with the best of ‘em. Caramels were a bit problematic however. And so it is, in early February we find The Prince in the Royal Scullery bent over mountains of cast-iron pots, sticky stuff up to…

As I write on this almost final day of January 2012, my view of the rooftops beyond my seventeenth-story condo unit are white with snow, but only a smidgen a smudge on Milwaukee’s face. Since I neither ski nor hunt nor snowboard, the weather outside is delightful and, baby, it’s not even cold inside in front of my fake fireplace. I’m listening to Tom Crawford’s great Sunday A.M. series of the Golden Age of Radio, on Frontier Radio 91.7. It starts early and I’m wondering how many people actually rise to tune in? Today’s thriller is Suspense. Our General Manager…

We had our monthly condo association meeting on Monday. It’s always on Monday at 6:30 pm. A notice is posted on both of our elevators, in case residents are interested in what’s going on. Most aren’t. This wasn’t always the case. I’ve been here for seven years and lots of folks used to get up from their couches and make it to the meeting in the community room on floor one. Perhaps we’d have 30 attendees back in the day. A few days ago at our monthly meeting we had five. Me, another single lady, a married lady without her…

I know I’m old when I’ve lived long enough to write a review of  Silas B.Ritchie’s exhibition at Anaba Tea Room in Shorewood. Silas, who must be pushing 28, is the offspring of Brian Ritchie, who used to roam the halls of the Shorecrest Hotel where I lived for almost a decade. This is the first solo exhibition of Silas’ acrylic paintings and soon you can read my review in thirdcoastdigest.com. What weather, though by the time you read this we may be shoveling out. And speaking of shoveling, Stephen Jackson of Bucks fame moved into this building, along with…

Up here on floor 17, I now find myself as the only remaining occupant. The Bs moved out of their deluxe double unit with a lake view and their neighbor (and mine) has left leaving his unit for sale, though I hear a deal is in the works. Adjacent to me is my Arizona family’s unit, but it’s occupied mostly in the summer. Willie Davis of Packers fame is rarely here as his home base is in L.A. Uh oh. Hold it. Stephen Jackson and spouse have recently rented a super double unit on the lakeside of this floor. He’s…