Bi-Coastal Broads

Urns To Die For - by Sybil Sage

2011-02-16T17:17:00.000-08:00

"Would you rather be buried or cremated?" is a question some of us are asked more frequently than "Want to get it on?" so I've been reflecting on it. The problem was less about the how than the what. The truth is I want to stick around, which isn't always an option. The closest one gets is being the last one standing on "American Idol."

In a recent special, Barbara Walters and other A-listers who'd had open heart surgery -- David Letterman, Charlie Rose, Bill Clinton and Regis Philbin -- admitted the experience had forced them to confront their mortality and recognize that the good table reserved for them will one day be on the other side, where Elaine Kaufman has probably edged out St. Peter and is directing traffic.

It's clear that we're all going to die and can't take our Sleep Number beds with us. Though I have friends who've been diagnosed with control issues, I'm the only one who's created her own cremation urn. To future generations, I won't be reduced to "beloved daughter, sister, wife, mother" (and perhaps "bubby"), as they will see photos of me on a beautiful mosaic urn -- beaming at our son's graduations, admiring a Buddhist temple and hiking in Costa Rica (with nothing to suggest that I turned back after four minutes). I embedded only flattering photos and used our dinnerware so the pattern, if not my face, will be familiar to our son.

With the growing popularity of cremation, it was clear that others would be excited to have an urn like this. Though it aired decades ago, I've never forgotten the memorable Barney's commercial (when Barney and the writer of the ad, Steve Gordon, were going strong). Young boys sitting on a stoop were answering the question, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" Each kid took his turn, expressing a lofty aspiration. The spot ended with Barney shrugging, "I don't know, but they're all going to need clothes."

That brings me to my online mosaic art boutique (www.sybilsage.com), where along with other functional art, there are now urns, the Et URN ity and Pet URN ity. These are done on a commission basis. The client chooses the colors and provides photos that I re-size and mount onto clear glass, integrating them as well as other personal items (a business card, final Twitter update, signature, etc.) onto a metal urn. They can be ordered in advance by those who demand photo approval, or when needed.

Seeing what I'd done, a friend gasped, "Those urns are to die for!!"

"He's Just Not That Into You"

2011-01-08T18:57:00.000-08:00

"He's just not that into you," is what friends must be thinking about the one-sided, dysfunctional relationship I can't seem to break off. I, too, find it pathetic that I grovel for attention, hoping for a shout out or an inadvertent butt call from a cell phone, anything to suggest that I'm on God's buddy list.

I can't ascribe the fascination to chemistry. If God has made me tremble, it's because of fear, not foreplay. I'm the one repeatedly begging for forgiveness, never hearing, "No, this was my bad." My role is to be righteous while God gets to be self-righteous. And regardless of how I try to please, I get less face time than a friend with benefits.

The stories about God are awesome, and the message is unmistakable: "Play around, God forbid, with others and you'll pay." As with any long relationship, the stories become familiar and you want to scream, "Enough already with the omnipotence!" I tried to get past the narcissism to keep our standing date, usually from Friday night through Saturday at sundown. But did God ever surprise me with dinner reservations or a concert? No, it was up to me to make the plans. Did God ever ask, "This week, let's hear what vengeance you've wrought?" Though everything was about God, I was expected to believe that God had my back.

In my teen years, I got the idea to test God by doing something forbidden. I'd risk incurring God's wrath to see what would happen. Shortly after I ate an unkosher cheeseburger, Hurricane Carol took a turn and started heading in our direction. Everyone west of the George Washington Bridge was about to pay for my transgression. Our homes would be washed away and we'd be forced into exile, wandering in the Pocono Mountains for forty years. Luckily, the Amish and Quakers aren't as oppressive as the Egyptians. It appeared that the storm was coming to prove to me that God exists. I hoped to get forgiven, after which I'd play by the rules. But northern New Jersey was spared; it was the southern coastal towns that took the hit. Maybe someone from Seaside Heights had pissed off God more than I had. My plan didn't pan out.

Still single in my late 30's, it occurred to me that God might have felt a storm, even a major one, wasn't personal enough and that God was firing back at me by having me remain single forever. Now I was praying in earnest. "Look, I'm sorry I offended you, but haven't I done enough atoning? Every Yom Kippur I'm the one in the seat behind the plaque donated by the Glassman family, fasting and hoping to see your compassionate side. Come on, already, give me a break. I want a husband, one of my own, not those guys who think of marriage as a time share.

A close friend who was on a liquid protein diet called. "I'm invited to a dinner party and I asked to bring you as my designated eater." I went along, had two portions of veal stew made by the man who would later become my husband. My getting married at the age of 38, to my family and most of my single girlfriends, was more of a miracle than any burning bush. Overcoming multiple fertility problems to give birth at the age of 41? Better than the parting of the Red Sea. Okay, I wasn't as old as Sarah, and I did get help from a team of fertility experts, but this is the story God should want in the Bible. The Book of Sybil would do a lot to boost God's PR. God could be the new Mark Zuckerberg. (And, by the way, God, it looks as if he's getting rewarded big time despite helping himself to his Harvard neighbors' idea.)

Were my prayers answered? An argument could be made that they were, but it's hard to distinguish religion from coincidence. It's not impossible that the value of believing and praying is the placebo effect. I'm still waiting for a sign. I know we're not allowed to see God, but how about a blog?

Open Letter to Gawker Hackers

2010-12-21T08:47:00.000-08:00

Okay, hawkers, you've made your point. I should have used different passwords for each of my accounts, but it was so much easier to remember that my son's birthday followed by my blood type would access my email accounts while the last four digits of my social security number and what my driver's license says I weigh would get me onto ebay, Paypal, Etsy, You Tube, GoDaddy, Amazon and assorted sites I used in my quest to find the tastiest olive oil.

I don't remember ever visiting gawker, but apparently there was a time when I was curious about whether or not Gwyneth Paltrow might have been photographed eating carbs in a trendy Soho restaurant as I had an account. That was my undoing as having a Gawker account made it possible for you to pass yourself off as the online me.

Would you use my Etsy account to buy a hand loomed scarf? My Amazon account to push some obscure author to number one? My PayPal account to score elite tickets to "The Merchant of Venice" or a New York co-op? I was desperate to create new passwords and would now take it more seriously, avoiding using my birthday or schools I'd attended that you could know from Facebook, and not being lazy like those who grasp at the most popular passwords: 12345, password, lifehack, qwerty, abc123, 111111, monkey, consumer, 0, letmein, trustno1.

AOL provided instructions for strengthening a password, which helped me arrive at a formula impossible to penetrate. The trick is to mix capital and lower case and accompany the letters with numbers. I capitalized the second letter of Hackers to make my password a most improbable "hAckers" (clever, no?). And I split up the word by inserting my area code, 212, at different points between the letters. I don't mind telling you I feel slightly smug and just hope Julian Assange doesn't spread this around on WikiLeaks.

Seemingly the only site not penetrated by you is my web site - www.sybilsage.com. But you and everyone else should feel free to go there and buy mosaic art with complete confidence that you will be completely secure.

Advice to Tea Party: Use Your Words (Unless You Don't Know Any)

2010-10-28T05:17:00.000-07:00

It's clear that Tea Party enthusiasts have forgotten what the rest of us learned in high school about the Constitution and evolution, but the pummeling of MoveOn.org member Lauren Valle reveals they're also ignoring the basic lesson taught in nursery school, "use your words." Valle, carrying a sign in a group of Rand Paul supporters, was knocked down, her head repeatedly stepped on. This attack was then characterized by campaign coordinator Tim Profitt as "passion," who mistakenly believes "passion" is a synonym for "violence".

I, too, am angry, and have been since George W. Bush was said to have been elected. My condition, if diagnosed, would be called "Keith Olbermann Syndrome," the symptoms being an obsessive, unbridled fury at right wing politicians and pundits as well as a handful of relatives. There's no effective medical treatment for this fury so I turned to a homeopathic remedy, mosaic art.

For years I've been breaking plates, using the shards to design vases, picture frames, lamps, planters and candlestick holders. When Sarah Palin appeared on the scene, I needed to find an acceptable outlet for my anger and channeled it into mosaic political satire, which led to my Breaking News series. This includes vases that pay homage to Stephen Colbert and the environment and edgier cremation urns done with red, white and blue American flag plates and small pictures that comment on our current crises -- financial fraud, job losses, political sex scandals and right wingers. These and the more benign items can be seen by going to www.sybilsage.com.

Studies Show Parents Are Not Happier Than The Childless

2010-07-19T05:16:00.000-07:00

According to an article in New York magazine, a number of studies have revealed that parenting is not necessarily a source of happiness. Creating babies, therefore, may be something you shouldn’t try at home. Children, like Toyotas, appear to be a disappointment and may, in fact, find themselves being recalled.

In 2004, back when people still had jobs, a survey was done of 909 Texas working women. They ranked childcare sixteenth in pleasurability out of nineteen activities, behind housework, napping, exercising, preparing food, shopping and watching TV. I have to assume they don’t get the same programs we do on the East Coast. I wasn’t among those queried, but I got far more enjoyment from singing "Wheels on the Bus" to our son and participating in the process of his evolving into a competent young adult than I ever have on a treadmill. Given how parenting is perceived in Texas, one wonders about the popularity of the pro-life movement there. Toddlers would be well advised to hide their parents’ guns.

But these perceptions are not limited to Texas. Other studies claim that parents are more depressed than the childless and report that childcare is seen as drudgery. As a Hollywood scriptwriter, I had what is considered a glamorous career, yet I found being with my son far more compelling than watching rehearsals of "Growing Pains." Being a mother is the most important role I’ve had, the most challenging and rewarding. Parenting is dynamic, requiring repeated reassessing and revising, which keeps it fresh. Sure, having a child adds anxiety and stress, but that’s the case with anything you take seriously.

Dogs, ironically, continue to get good press and are credited with providing emotional support, particularly in difficult times. I’m baffled that pets are getting better press than children. My relationship with our Tibetan terrier was far from reciprocal. I did all the giving and caretaking with nary a thank you. Unlike our son, who learned to go to the bathroom by himself, the dog made it clear that the antique rug would suffer should I be selfish enough to go to dinner and a movie.

From the first touch of his tiny fist on my chest to today’s amusing instant message, my son has enhanced my appreciation of life. From him, I learned much of what I know about men, that I can’t persuade him or maybe anyone to use sunscreen, that there comes a time when backing off should replace being there, that teasing can be an expression of affection and that when my computer gives me trouble, I should reboot. Without him, life would be far less meaningful, my world would be smaller, I’d certainly not be as happy as I am and I’d be totally depending on Tech Support.

2010-04-07T18:55:00.000-07:00

with the news that spirit airlines is now charging $45 to place a carry on bag in an overhead bin i am beginning to think that heidi had a good idea. for those of you who are too young or too illiterate to have ever read the classic - heidi is the story of a young swiss girl who is sent away from her beloved, but poor, grandpa to go live in the home of a wealthy family and act as a companion to their invalid daughter.

heidi had no luggage. heidi wore all her clothing, all at once. now it's true that heidi probably didn't have an extensive wardrobe and i am betting that she only had one pair of shoes but i still think it is a good plan. when my husband and i travel i am the one who always takes the lions share of the luggage. therefore, from this time forth, when we travel, i am going to wear all my daytime clothing at once while the husband will wear all my evening clothes.

he doesn't know about this plan yet but i am sure he will agree once hears that we can save the $45 luggage fee.

Lying About Your Age: When is it Okay -- by Sybil Sage

2010-03-24T06:13:00.000-07:00

One of the perks of turning 65 in New York is you become eligible for a Senior Metro card that allows you to use public transportation for half fare, so I was surprised to see a 67-year-old friend whip out a regular card as we were heading into the subway. Responding to the puzzled look on my face, she explained, "Oh, this is the one I use when I'm with a guy I've met online, where I claim to be 62."

She doesn't look 62 and she certainly doesn't look 67, but even shaving off five years hasn't been productive because most men our age are looking for women who are much younger. Another friend who's also posted her profile on dating sites refuses to misrepresent her age, which created a conversation about when it's okay to lie about your age.

I lied about age when I was using fake I.D. to get served before I was of legal age and again, this time about my son's age, to take advantage of a photography package being offered to children under the age of two, scheduling the session at nap time so he'd be tired and not articulate enough to raise suspicions, stuffing his mouth with Gummi Bears to keep him from talking. But recently, after repeatedly getting rejected by online surveys and imagining it was because of my age, I took to claiming I'm ten years younger than I am. Even so, I'm rarely accepted and unlikely to answer enough questions to get the $10 Amazon.com gift certificate I crave.

More than 15 Ways to Get 15 Minutes of Fame - by Sybil Sage

2010-03-20T06:06:00.000-07:00

With the excessive media coverage, ever-growing number of bloggers and You Tube, it's now almost impossible to avoid getting fifteen, if not more, minutes of fame. Some surefire methods:

Lose a tremendous amount of weight, be the spokesperson for Jenny Craig, gain it back and parlay that into a television show;

Become his mistress, or better yet, have the baby of a married politician and pose for Vanity Fair; in the event you're male, pretend you've fathered said baby and write a book;

Crash a White House state dinner;

Get mauled by a 200-pound chimp or keep one as a pet;

Admit to having been sexually abused as a child, best if the perpetrator was famous;

Cover yourself with tattoos and have an affair with the husband of an Oscar winner;

Use all three of your names and assassinate a world leader;

Make all of Julia Child's recipe and blog about it;

Write a fake memoir, get support from Oprah and then have a family member reveal the truth;

Sing beautifully while looking frumpy;

Join the astronaut program and drive across the country to lash out at a romantic rival;

Have your school prom canceled because you intend to bring a same sex date;

Hide a bomb in your shoe or underpants;

Text message while piloting a commercial aircraft and forget to land;

Be nine years old and deliver your mother's baby;

Attach yourself to someone likely to come to as tragic an end as Michael Jackson or Anna Nicole Smith;

Become a religious leader, teacher, doctor or dentist and, in that capacity, have sex with someone;

Transgender, but start by having a famous parent;

Be named a "person of interest" in an unsolved murder case;

Preach to a congregation attended by a presidential candidate and make outrageous statements;

Gain stature as a super model and throw objects at your assistant;

Land a plane safely in the Hudson River;

Father the child of Sarah Palin's daughter and pose for a magazine spread;

Be a high profile athlete and then take steroids, attack another athlete or be attacked, admit to a sexual addiction or conduct dog fights;

Admit to running a huge ponzi scheme or be a family member of one who does;

After being in the administration, write a tell-all book blaming everyone else;

Gain fame and try to leave Scientology;

Be the oldest person in the world and die, but be aware your 15 minutes will be posthumous;

If all else fails, be named Britney, Lindsay or Paris and go to parties.

Are You Prepared for an Emergency? - by Sybil Sage

2010-03-19T05:48:00.000-07:00

It was easy to be prepared for emergencies when there were only two, and all you had to do was make a note of the nearest fire exit and to crouch under the desk at school in the event of a nuclear attack. Guys didn’t have to be told (after the first emergency) to keep a condom in their wallets and girls (after one surprise mishap) figured out it’s wise to carry tampons in their purses. But emergencies, like drugstore chains, increased almost daily, making it harder to feel you’re up to speed.

We learned the Heimlich Maneuver (when and how to do it), CPR (with and then without the breathing), to toss off high heels if being chased by a rapist or pickpocket, how to slide out of a plane, which alarm system to install in our homes and pets, how to launch an Amber Alert, when it’s appropriate to call 911 and give Ipacac to our children, to sleep with a flashlight next to the bed if in an earthquake area and, more recently, how to handle an out-of-control Prius — though not yet told what to do if one is coming directly at us. For most other things, we turn to our nearest ER or Tech Support.

Adding to the overcrowded list, however, an article in a recent issue of Newsweek, by Raina Kelley, offered 12 ways to deal with being taken hostage, something I hadn’t — even in my most anxious state — considered. The head of the New York Police Department’s hostage-negotiation team advises:

1. Don’t be a hero
2. Do what you’re told
3. Don’t speak unless spoken to
4. Get comfortable, but never turn your back on the captor
5. Don’t make suggestions
6. Don’t try to escape
7. Let medical needs be known
8. Be observant
9. Answer only "yes" and "no"
10. Signal the police if your captors are listening in on the line
11. Don’t be argumentative
12. Hit the floor

This list should be memorized by anyone like to go on a boring date or attend a contentious family dinner.

Why Can't Congress Do Its Personal Best? - by Sybil Sage

2010-02-27T18:05:00.000-08:00

Switching between events in Washington and Vancouver was confusing. There was more discord and hostility demonstrated by America's elected officials than there was among the competing athletes, who, unlike our politicians, were hoping to do their personal best, as opposed to members of Congress, clearly determined to annihilate "the other side."

Among the Olympic contenders, only Russian figure skater Evgeni Plushenko was a sore loser, dubbing himself the "platinum medal winner" and carping about his opponent. It's as if he'd been coached by Fox TV to ignore the results and try to undermine the opponent who'd outscored him. Evan Lysacek, judging by his grace under pressure and ability to take the high road, may have have been mentored by President Obama.

Missing from both events was the pre-program red carpet with Joan Rivers and Melissa commenting on wardrobe choices, decidedly less colorful at Blair House than at the Olympic Stadium.

After watching the Health Summit, America might want to turn the Washington Mall into a large "kiss and cry" area.

Will Jenny Sanford's Book Tour Hit the Appalachian Trail - by Sybil Sage

2010-02-06T05:40:00.000-08:00

It would have been a thick compilation if Jenny Sanford had chosen to write a book about wives of politicians who’ve been caught cheating (let alone those who haven’t yet been caught), enough to read on a flight to Asia, but she chose to tell her own story in a memoir titled Staying True, and it’s truly a case of making lemonade out of a very public betrayal.

What would any of us do if we were to find ourselves in her position? It’s a little fuzzy for me as I’m not one who plans ahead. I don’t scope out exit rows on planes or read "what to do in the event of a fire" in public buildings, nor have I made arrangements to deal with my death. My hope is that if I have no contingency plan, dreaded things won’t happen. And under that heading comes finding out that my husband has been fooling around. Cheating, after all, is not limited to politicians, who don’t, curiously, approach it any more competently than they do health-care reform.

Take Tiger Woods – which seems, as we've learned, to have been a popular sport. Elin read his text messages and went after him with a golf club. We haven’t heard how David Letterman's wife responded to the favorite nations policy he applied to interns. I’m sure I wouldn’t be as inclusive as Elizabeth Edwards, who supposedly invited the "love child" to join her family for Christmas. I don’t celebrate Christmas, mistresses or love children, and I certainly am not looking to pick out more "Secret Santa" gifts.

Silda Spitzer’s unwavering devotion is something we all value in an employee or family pet, but she’s been harshly criticized for being too supportive. Yet she appears to have inspired the TV series "The Good Wife," and as a TV writer, we’re always looking for stories. But I like to think I’d be as elegant as Jenny Sanford and ridicule my ex in a book that gets favorably reviewed in The New York Times. Having said that, this is a book I hope never to write.

Jenny Sanford may be the new role model for the wife who’s been spurned. She had agreed to adjust the wedding vows so that the pledge to "forsake all others" was eliminated, which would have been an issue for most of us, but after he admitted to not having forsaken all others, she and her friends were spirited enough to make jokes about "hiking the Appalachian Trail," code for aerobic adultery.

After her book tour, I hope she’ll consider leading tours on the Appalachian Trail. The area must be suffering as tourism has surely fallen off now that men don’t dare tell their staff or wives, "I’m going hiking on the Appalachian Trail."

Craigslist: Position Available at White House

2009-11-27T06:01:00.000-08:00

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

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

2009-11-22T14:29:00.001-08:00

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."

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

2009-11-21T05:27:00.000-08:00

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.

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

2009-10-24T11:59:00.000-07:00

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.

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

2009-10-12T15:45:00.001-07:00

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.

Adultery For Dummies -- by Sybil Adelman Sage

2009-09-25T07:09:00.000-07:00

Those having trouble finding extra-marital affairs (seemingly a minute demographic) now have help. The web site greatloveseeker.com 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.

Greatloveseeker.com 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.

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

2009-09-16T06:46:00.000-07:00

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.

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

2009-09-09T14:50:00.000-07:00

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.

Reasons for a bedroom threesome - by Sybil Adelman Sage

2009-09-08T06:14:00.000-07:00

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.

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

2009-09-01T06:27:00.000-07:00

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?

ZIPCARS ARE THE NEW HOOKING UP -- by Sybil Adelman Sage

2009-08-31T06:02:00.000-07:00

"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.

Please sign this petition -- by Sybil Adelman Sage

2009-08-30T06:39:00.000-07:00

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.

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

2009-08-29T18:46:00.000-07:00

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, MomentsInTime.com 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?

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

2009-08-23T07:09:00.000-07:00

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?"