Tourists

To recognize a tourist in New York,
Here’s my advice:
Don’t rely on looks or clothes
Or acting much too nice.

Maps and cameras offer hints,
An accent gives a clue;
But if you look for certainty,
Here’s what you have to do.

Stand on any corner
Any morning, noon, or night;
Notice all the people who
Won’t cross against the light.

Then you’ll have your answer;
You’ll have all the proof you need.
Those who wait for green to cross
Are tourists, guaranteed!

Feeding a Crowd

When you’re feeding a crowd,
You should be allowed
To sit back and observe
All the praise you deserve.

For you’ve shopped, cooked, and cleaned
‘Fore the guests have convened.
Many hours have you toiled
As you’ve baked, fried, or boiled.

If you stop and take note
You might say, and I quote,
“I’m a really good host
And I don’t mean to boast,

But look – everyone’s eating;
They’re talking, not tweeting.
I created this scene –
I’m the gathering queen!”

It’s a feeling to savor,
A favorite flavor;
But take off your crown:
For each up, there’s a down.

When the company leaves,
You must roll up your sleeves
And, unless you’ve three wishes,
You must do the dishes.

Still, your efforts have paid;
You need no accolade.
You should feel rather proud
After feeding a crowd.

Charoses

While looking for a recipe
To grace the Seder meal,
I came upon a coupon
Which had something to reveal.

It was inside a newsletter
My grandmother had sent;
The intervening years just made
The point more evident.

The coupon’s expiration date
Was April ’85,
The year my youngest child was born
And Grandma was alive.

So many things have taken place
Since I received that letter,
Yet every year I use that recipe
It just tastes better.

For with the apples and the nuts,
The cinnamon and wine,
I add the memories that help
To make this dish all mine.

Preparing

We spend our lives preparing
For future key events,
And may be left despairing
Of what this represents.

For every passing hour
We think about tomorrow
Diminishes our power
And forces us to borrow

The time we should be using
To celebrate today;
It’s all within our choosing
To act without delay.

Of course, some preparations
We cannot allow to slide,
‘Cause certain expectations
Simply must be satisfied.

You have to cook and clean and shop
If you are hosting dinner,
But taking time so you don’t drop
Does not make you a sinner.

I rarely heed my own advice
But often wish I could,
‘Cause oftentimes we sacrifice
More minutes than we should.

If we could plan without the waste
Of energy expended,
Our worrying could be erased;
Anxiety transcended.

So as the holidays approach,
Get ready, but relax;
A stress-free host without reproach
Won’t yield to heart attacks.

Concern

It’s wonderful, in time of need,
To reconfirm or learn
Which people follow your travails
And show you their concern.

By email, snail mail, or by phone
They contact to inquire
How things did go and how you feel:
Their caring does inspire.

It’s comforting, just like a quilt
You’re wrapped in to keep warm,
To have support like this, so like
A beacon in a storm.

It doesn’t take much to convey
Connection and support,
And sometimes those you count on
Can surprise and come up short.

We all lead busy lives and so
I’d never hold a grudge
For someone who forgot, because
It’s not for me to judge.

But I am grateful and must thank
All those who did come through,
And if someday you are in need,
I hope I’m there for you.

That’s not to say I would ignore
Those others, with a shrug,
But at this time some friends deserve
A rhyming, heartfelt hug.

Wake-Up Call

The other day I ran into
Someone I know not well,
And when I asked how life has been
She said, “A living hell.”

Her husband, in the hospital,
Had weird hallucinations;
His brain was quite a mystery,
Despite evaluations.

Her life had changed most drastically
And she’d been unprepared;
So now she had to do alone
The things that they had shared.

“I’m canceling a tour we’d planned,”
She said, sounding resigned.
“And when I come to visit him,
I don’t know what I’ll find.”

I felt so bad for her and had
No words to quite console.
When life throws darts like this at us,
It’s out of our control.

Her story, sad as it could be,
I’ve heard in other versions.
Its message should be strong enough
To foster mass conversions.

For those of us who pass the time
As if we’ll live forever,
Should realize in a flash
It’s time to plan our next endeavor.

We never know when, in a blink,
Our light may start to dim,
And suddenly the future
Can revert from glam to grim.

My meeting shook me up a bit,
So screw procrastination:
It’s time for me to sit right down
And book my next vacation.

The Wait

Nobody likes waiting.
It really is the pits;
‘Cause while anticipating,
You might just fall to bits.

Whatever you are waiting for
You want it to be done.
The nervousness you can’t ignore
Won’t stop once it’s begun.

Anxiety keeps building ‘til
It flies way off the charts,
And even if you know the drill
You’re helpless when it starts.

So take a breath or read a book
Or find a new diversion;
And maybe that will be the hook
To pluck you from immersion.

‘Cause drowning in anxiety
Won’t make the time go fast;
But it will pass and soon you’ll see
Your wait will end at last.