Stu McCorkindale, 2/1/50-4/13/11

“I am standing upon the seashore.
A ship at my side spreads her white
sails to the morning breeze and starts
for the blue ocean.

She is an object of beauty and strength.
I stand and watch her until at length
she hangs like a speck of white cloud
just where the sea and sky come
to mingle with each other.

Then, someone at my side says;
“There, she is gone!”

“Gone where?”
Gone from my sight. That is all.
She is just as large in mast and hull
and spar as she was when she left my side
and she is just as able to bear her
load of living freight to her destined port.
Her diminished size is in me, not in her.

And just at the moment when someone
at my side says, “There, she is gone!”
There are other eyes watching her coming,
and other voices ready to take up the glad
“Here she comes!”
And that is dying.”

Henry Van Dyke, American author

Happy Easter, handsome. Now put down the jelly beans and the Swedish fish and do something about the lockout. The boys and I can’t have no you and no Giants, too!

Miss you, love you,

Susan xoxo

The Real Danger of Sleep Deprivation

It’s four-fifteen in the morning and I’m awake and reading the “7 Little Known Dangers of Sleep Deprivation.” It was one of the stories on, so I clicked through.  Sure, I could be reading about a 132-pound toddler, reviewing the many (and mind numbing) celebrity splits and hookups in the month of March, or finding out the “5 Things You Didn’t Know About Natalie” (Portman, in case you didn’t know), but the sleep deprivation piece seemed more appropriate.

See? I can’t be that sleep deprived. I still know what’s appropriate.

“It’s one shot of Bailey’s in your breakfast coffee, Tug, not two!” she hissed, plucking the bottle from his filthy paws.

Yeah, I’m up and hanging with the hound. Oh dear. You think maybe there are eight little known dangers of sleep deprivation?

In any case, the article says that: 

The 7th little known danger of sleep deprivation is the impact it has on memory and concentration. And maybe it does. I can’t remember.

The 6th little known danger is mental problems. Now that’s bullshit. I’ve had those since the days when I slept through the night like a normal person.

The 5th little known danger is weight gain. Of course it is. I’m awake because I’m sick with worry. Let’s punish me with some extra pounds. Please.

The 4th little known danger is impaired decision making skills. Hmm. I wrote this piece. And posted it. They may have a point.

The 3rd and 2nd little known dangers are increased risk of work and auto accidents. Nope. Not me. Whether I get three hours of sleep or eight, you can count on me to topple off my heels and take out the client I’m escorting to the conference room, or misjudge the distance between the Durango and a dumpster.  (I’ll leave the specifics of both those particularly mortifying moments of my life to your imagination. You’re welcome.)

As for the #1 little known danger of sleep deprivation? Well this is a kick in the ass. It’s illness. Colds, flu, even cancer.


I can’t sleep because I can’t stop thinking about my husband who has cancer and this increases the possibility of my getting it, too?

They’re wrong, you know.

The real #1 little known danger of sleep deprivation is my discovering who developed this damn list.

This is what “almost f-ing” 50 looks like.

Not bad, I guess. And better than not getting to be “almost f-ing” 50. But still painful.

Me, and my much younger girlfriends.


I mean, it seems like just yesterday I was “almost f-ing” 40.

Stu, Casey, Cuyler, and me many moons ago at the July 4th parade in Ridgewood.


Looking at this picture, taken in what had to be 200 degree heat, I’m reminded of the good old days of working ’round the clock, tending to Cryler, I mean, Cuyler, trying to squeeze in time with Casey (and whoever the big guy is on the end), and not having a single spare second to do anything about my hair (Roots are for trees, Suz!) or my hips.

You know, maybe “almost f-ing” 50 isn’t so f-ing bad after all.